DE  WITT'S  ELOCUTIONARY  SERIES. 


PRICE  15  CENTS  EACH. 


Young  people  who  were  desirous  of  acquiring  a  practical  knowledge  of  the 
beautiful,  as  well  as  highly  useful  art  of  Reading  and  speaking  correctly  and 
elegantly,  have  found  great  difficulty  in  procuring  boohs  that  would  teach  them 
rather  in  the  manner  of  a  genial  friexd  than  an  imperious  master.  Such 
books  we  here  present  to  the  public  in"De  WiWs  Elocutionary  Series.''  y,,t 
only  are  the  selections  made  very  carefully  from  the  abundant  harvest  of  dramatic 
literature,  but  the  accompanying  instructions  are  sc  plain  direct  and  forci- 
ble that  the  least  intelligent  i  an  lastly  understand  all  the  rules  and  precepts  of  the 
glorious  art  that  has  immortalized  Roscius  ami  Kean,  Chatham  and  Henry.. 
■■■■■■■"■■■■  "'■'■"■"■■■ 

No.  1.  THE  ACADEMIC  SPEAKER.    Containing  an  un- 

usual  vaiiety  ot  striking  Dramatic  Dialogues,  aud  other  nw-i  effective  Scenes.  Selected 
with  givat  cue  ami  judgment  from  the  noblest  ami  wittiest  Dramas,  Comedies,  ami 
Farces  most  popular  upon  the  best  i-tages.  Interspersed  with  such  able,  plain  and 
practical  criticisms  ami  remaiks  upon  Elocution  ami  sta  e  effects  as  to  render  this 
work  the  most  valuable  hand-book  to  the  youug  orator  that  has  evei  been  product  d 
CONTENTS.— General  Introductory  Remarks  ;  On  the  quality  ot  Selections;  On  True  Eloquence  ; 
On  Awkward  Deliver  ;  On  Necessity  ol  Attentive  Study;  On  Appropriate  Gesture;  On 
the  Appearance  of  Ladies  upon  th  •  Stage  ;  The  Stage  and  the  Curtain  ;  Remarks  upon  the 
subject  of  Scenery  ;  low  to  ea-ily  Construct  a  Stage  ;  Stage  Arrangements  and  Pr  perties  ; 
Remarks  upon  improvising  Wardrobes,  etc.,  etc.  There  are  Twelve  pieces  in  this  book  that 
require  two  Male  Characters  ;  Six  pieces  that  tvquire  six  Male  Characters;  Two  pieces  that 
require  four  Male  Characters. 

No,  2.  THE  DRAMATIC  SPEAKER.    Composed  of  many 

very  carefully  chosen  .Monologues,  Dialogues  arid  other  effective  Scenes,  fiom  the  most 
famous  Tragedies,  Comedies  and  Faices.  lnteispersed  with  numerous  Directions  and 
Instructions  for  their  proper  Delivery  and  Performance. 
CONTENTS.—  There  are  tlkree  pieces  in  this  book  that  require  one  Male  Character  One  that  re- 
quires three  Male  Characters  ;  Ten  ihat  require  two  Male  Characteis  ;  Nine  that  require  one 
Male  an  I  one  Female  Characters;  Four  that  requires  three  Male  Characters;  One  that  re- 
quires two  Male  ami  one  Female  Character  Ow  that  requires  two  Female  Characters  ;  One 
that  lequireseme  Male  and  two  Female  Character-. 

No.  3.    THE  HISTRIONIC  SPEAKER.    Being    a  c^refnl 

compilation  ol  the  most  amusiug  Dramatic  scenes,  light,  gay,  ,  uiuled.  wiity  ami  spark- 
ling. Selected  from  the  most  elegantly  written  and  most  theatrically  effective  Comedies 
and  Farces  m  on  the  English  aud  American  Stages.  Properly  arranged  and  adapted  lor 
Amateur  and  Parlor  Representation. 
COXTEXTS.-nrff  of  Die  pieces  in  this  book  require  tiro  Female  Characters;  One  piece  re- 
quires Keren  Female  Characters;  Nineteen  pieces  that  require  one  Male  and  one  Female 
Characteis;  One  piece  that  requires  one  Male  and  ttco  Female  Characters;  One  piece  that 
requires  two  Male  aud  one  Female  Characteis. 

No.  4.    THE   THESPIAN    SPEAKER.     Being   the  best 

Scenes  from  the  best  Plays.  Every  extiacl  is  preceded  by  valuable  and  very  plain  observa- 
tions, teaching  the  youug  forensic  student  how  to  Speak  and  Act  in  the  most  highly  approv- 
ed manner. 
CONTENTS-— Fibs  of  the  pieces  in  tbhj  book  require  one  Male,  and  one  Female  Characters  ;  Three 
of  the  pieces  require  three  Walt-  Characters  ;  Three  of  the  pieces  reqt#e  tico  Male  and  one 
Female  Characters  ;  Seven  of  tins  pieces  reqjireiura  Male  Characters  ;  One  of  the  pieces  re- 
quires owe  Male  and  one  Female  Characters;  Tvso  of  the  pieces  require  two  Male  aud  two 
Female  Characters  :  Out  o'f  tlit  pieces  requires /oitr  Male  and  four  Female  Characters  ; 
Three  of  the  pieces  require  three  Slale  and  one  Female  Cuaracteis. 

***  Single  copies  sent,  on  receipt  of  price,  postage  free.    Address, 

Robert  M.  Ee  Witt,  Publisher,  33  Rose  St,,  N,  Y. 

i  Bet.  Ilunne  and  Frankfort  Sts. 

FREE!    FREE!!    FREE!!! 

tar  An  immense  Descriptive  Catalogue  of  the  Best  Novels,  the  Uest  Song  Books,  the  Best  Music 
aud  the  Best  Plays,  unequalleJ  and  uuattainable  elsewheie,  mailed  free  upon  application  to 

R.  M.  DE  WITT,  Publisher,  33  Rose  Street,  New  York. 


Y   -""HARRY  KERNELL'S 

"ECCENTRIC  IRISH" 

SONGSTER. 

CONTAINING  THE  VERY  ESSENCE  OF  IEISH  WIT  AND  HUMOR  IN  THE 
FORM  OF  JOLLY,  CHAEACTEEISTIC,  LUDICROUS,  COMIC,  AND  SEMI- 
COMIC   HIBEENIAN    SONGS   AND    BALLADS,   AS   SUNG  TO  IM- 
MENSE AND  EAPTUEOUS  AUDIENCES  BY  THE  IMITATIVE 
BUT  INIMITABLE 

HARRY  KERNELL, 

The   Champion   Irish    Singing  Humorist. 

INCLUDING  AL90  THE  ORIGINAL  SKETCH,  WITH  MUSIC,  ENTITLED 

r 

"  THE  WHISTLING  THIEF." 

TO  WHICH   ABE   ADDED 

THE  FOLLOWING  FOUR  PIECES  SET  TO  MUSIC  EX' 
PRESSLY    FOR  THIS  WORK: 

A  VIRGIN  ONLY  19  YEARS  OLD.Composed  by  HARRY  RJCKARDS. 
THE  SCAMP,  Composed  by  LANCE  MAJOR. 

UP  A  TREE.  Composed  by  HARRY  CLIFTON. 

ALL  THE  WORLD  AROUND,      Composed  by  R.  P.  STEWART. 


&7*t/lf&d_ 


NEW  YORK : 

ROBERT  M.  DE    WITT,  PUBLISHER, 

No.  33  Rose  Street. 

(BETWEEN    DUA5E  AND  FRANKFOBT  8T8.) 


OOPTKIOHT,  1875,  BT  ROBERT  M.  L>E  WlTT. 


CONTENTS 


HARRY  KERNELL'S  "ECCENTRIC  IRISH"  SONGSTER. 


PAGE. 

Alderman  Flynn 20 

All  the  World  Around.    Music.  56 

Boulevard  (The) 16 

Beautiful  Boy  (A) 39 

Boston  Beans 42 

Broth  of  a  Boy  is  Paddy  (The)... .  44 

Bold  Irish  Soldier  (The) 60 

Clarence  McGowan's  Troubles 4 

Casey's  Whiskey 54 

Chap  in  Number  Nine 55 

Capt.  Kelly's  Medley 58 

Cot  in  the  Corner  (The) 59 

Dublin  Policemen 33 

Digging  for  Gould 50 

Dear  Ould  Sod 52 

Dermot's  Farewell 53 

Flannel  Mouth  Mick 18 

Funny  Little  Tailor  (The) 30 

I  am  so  Glad 10 

I'm  -what    you    Call  a  Military 

Man 17 

Irish  Blades '../.. 27 

Iligant  Wake  (An) 46 

Jar  Down  Everybody 10 

Just  Like  John 29 


PAGE. 

Just  Landed 31 

Kalamazack 19 

Laboring  Man  (The) 21 

Mrs.  Casey's  Raffle 22 

Rising  Politician 32 

Opinions  of  the  Press 3 

O'Shaughnessy  Guards  (The) 7 

Origin  of  Lreland  (The) .w . . .    9 

Pay  for  the  Last  Round 26 

Parade  of  the  A.  O.  H 28 

Stars  in  de  Sky 5 

Song  and  Dance 6 

Scamp  (The).    Music 24 

Seldom-Fed  Brigade  (The) 35 

Sligo  Musketeers  (The) 38 

There's  a  Bottle  on  the  Mantel. . .  23 

Two-Cent  Sail  (A) 34 

Terrible  Example  (A) 40 

Terry  Malone 53 

Up  a  Tree.    Music 36 

Virgin    Only   19  Years    Old  (A) 

Music 48 

Why  don't  You  Hire  a  Hall  ? . . . .  8 
Whistling  Thief  (The).  Original 

Sketch  and  Mu-ic) 11 

Bard  of  Armagh  (The)  43 


BS5~  The  Music  of  all  the  songs  in  this  book  can  be  obtained  at  any 
music  store  in  the  United  States  or  Canada. 


OPINIONS  OF  THE  PRESS. 

*  7  TMr.  Hakry  Kernell,  in  the  North  of  Ireland  dialect,  his  anecdotes, 
songs  and  dances,  is  an  original  piece  of  business,  and  has  no  successful 
imitator. — Louisville  (Ky.)  Paper. 

One  of  the  really  first-class  features  was  the  Irish  dialect  of  Mr.  Ker- 
nell. —  Chicago  Evening  Post. 

Harry  Kernell  introduces  an  entirely  new  feature  in  the  variety  busi- 
ness, and  merits  the  many  encores,  he  receives. — Minneapolis  (Mo.)  Paper. 

One  of  the  greatest  features  of  the-  entertainment  was  Harry  Kernell, 
who  sung,  danced,  and  talked  in  the  North  of  Ireland  dialect  until  his  au- 
ditors were  fairly  aching  at  the  sides  from  laughing.  He  retired  amid 
much  cheering.— Ottawa  (Ca.)  Paper. 

Mr.  Harry  Kebnell  making  his  Obeisance. — This  gentleman  is  the 
most  accomplished  Irish  comedian  we  have  ever  seen — having  the  brogue 
and  accent  to  perfection,  though  he  has  never  seen  the  "  Dear  little 
Isle."  In  fact,  he  takes  pride  in  claiming  another  nationality.  He  kept 
the  house  in  a  continuous  roar  of  laughter.— M ontreal  Canada. 

Last,  not  least,  a  new  candidate  for  public  favor  has  made  a  decided  hit. 
Mr.  Harry  Kernell  is  a  more  than  average  representative  of  the  rare  North 
of  Ireland  comedian ;  and  dances  better  than  any  of  the  leading  men  iu 
his  line. — Cincinnati  Enquirer.     " 

Harry  Kernell,  who  sings,  dances,  and  talks  in  the  North  of  Ireland  dia- 
lect, is  very  funny.— Baltimore  Paper. 

Harry  Kernell  is  original,  and  everybody  liked  him. —  Washington  Paper, 

Mr.  Harry  Kernell  is  the  best  stage  Irishman  we  have  ever  seen.  His 
ebulitions  of  humor  seem  to  he  the  natural  overflow  of  a  joyous  spirit,  and 
not  the  studied  gags  so  common  to  the  stage,  to  laugh  at  which  requires  a 
painful  effort  on  the  part  of  the  hearer.  We  have  often  sat  and  witnessed 
attempted  portrayals  of  the  characteristics  of  d  fferent  nations,  and  have 
felt  in  duty  bound  to  laugh.  We  we*t  to  be  amused,  and  felt  that  the 
privilege  of  laughing  was  included  in  the  price  of  admission ;  but  every 
muscle  in  our  face  was  pained  in  the  effort  to  fulfill  our  obligation.  In 
witnessing  KernelVs  Irish  Comicalities,  the  inclination  to  laughter  was 
spontaneous  and  irresistible,  and  the  only  pain  we  experienced  was  in  the 
endeavor  to  control  our  risibilities. — Phila.  Sunday  Mercury,  May  10,  1875. 

But  next  to  Tony  Pastor,  Mr.  Harry  Kernell— a  North  of  Ireland  come- 
dian—provoked more  mirth  and  immoderate  laughter  than  any  of  his  fel- 
low performers.  He  has  the  accent  beautifully,  imitates  the  actions  of  his 
subject  well,  and  rolls  out  an  immense  volume  of  witty  sayings.— Ottawa, 
(Ca.)  Paper. 

Harry  Kernell;  in  his  ten  minutes  of  fun  and  laughter,  made  the  audience 
roar. — Toronto,  (Ca.)  Paper. 

Mr.  Harry  Kernell,  Negro  comedian,  made  his  first  appearance,  and  made 
a  decided  hit.  He  is  equal  to  any  in  his  line  of  specialties  that  ever  ap- 
peared here.  His  dialect  imitations  of  the  old  darkey  at  camp-meeting  were 
perfection,  and  brought  down  the  house.— Syracuse  Standard. 

Harry  Kernell  is  the  favorite  of  the  troupe,  receiving  round  after  round 
of  applause  as  he  goes  through  his  songs,  dances,  and  imitations.— Pitts- 
burgh Evening  Le.adtr. 

Mr.  Harry  Kernell  was  particularly  well  received,  his   Irish  character 
5  sketches  convulsing  the  audience  with  laughter,  and  bringing  down  the 
house  in  storms  of*applause.    He  is  the  best  in  his  line  ever  seen  in  Balti- 
more.— Baltimore  Evening  News. 

Harry  Kernell  proved  himself  a  splendid  Irish  comedian,   and  a  fine 
,„  dancer. — Cincinnati  Enquirer. 

■     Tony  Pastor,  Gus  Williams,  and  Harry  Kernell,  are  the  big  favorites  of 
~    the  audience.— Phila.  Evening  Item,  Aug.  27,  1875. 

Harry  Kernell  is  as  comical  in  his  sketches  as  it  is  possible  to  be.— Boston 
Z.  Post. 

But  one  of  all  who  took  down  the  house,  was  Harry  Kernell,  in  North  of 
Ireland  talking  and  singing.     His  make  up,  dialect,  and  action  were  true 
...   to  the  life,  and  one  of  the  most  droll  characterizations  we  have  ever  wit- 
nessed.— Meriden  (Conn.)  Standard. 

Harry  Kernell  should  devote  himself  entirely  to  Irish  characters  ;  there 
is  no  finer  stage  Irishman  in  the  variety  business  than  he.— Pittsburgh 
Evening  Leader. 


CLABEJtfCE  McGOWAN'S  TKOUBLES. 

Aia.— "  Sold  Everywhere." 
Sung  by  IIabkt  Kkrnell. 

Herb  I  am,  an  Irishman, 

From  Ireland  I  came  ; 
I  landed  in  America, 

And  here  I  will  remain. 
I  had  to  struggle  hard  at  first, 

And  I  don't  think  it  was  fair — 
No  matter  what  I  tried  to  do, 

I  was  sold  everywhere. 

Spoken. — No  matter  what  I  tried  to  do,  I  couldn't  get  along. 
I  once  opened  a  cheap  music  store  ;  a  fellow  camte  in  one  day 
and  asked  far  a  ballad  called  "  Act  on  the  Square,  Boys  ;"  and 
I  turned  my  back  to  him  to  get  it,  when  he  stole  a  four  dollar 
fiddle,  and  ran  out.  I  took  my  girl  to  a  party  once,  and  at  the 
supper  table  I  asked  her  if  she  liked  cod-fish  balls  ?  She  said 
ehe  didn't,  nor  she  never  attended  one.  But  it's  the  same  story, 
I  was — 

CHOUUS. 

Sold,  sold,  e^very where, 
Alas  !  I  have  been  sold  ; 

Sold  here,  sold  there, 
The  half  has  not  been  told. 

Sold  right,  sold  left- 
It  ain't  no  use  to  try. 

No  matter  what  I  try  to  do, 
I  am  sold  everywhere. 

I  went  out  once  to  a  menagerie, 

To  see  the  animals  jump  ; 
When  a  monkey  came  bouncing  out  of  a  cage 

And  gave  me  an  awful  thump. 
I  immediately  grabbed  him  by  the  tail, 

His  tail  it  then  came  loose  ; 
And  a  little  boy  was  standing  by, 

Said,  "  Glue  it  on,  you  goose !" 

Spoken. — I  couldn't  elue  it  on,  and  I  was  arrested  for  cruelty 
to  orphans.  I  worked  for  a  man  once — the  meanest  man  I  ever 
saw.  He  was  so  mean,  he  used  to  talk  through  his  nose;  afraid 
of  wearing  his  mouth  out.  He  was  so  mean,  he  got  married  on 
tick  ;  and  he  has  been  living  on  tick  ever  since.  He  got  on  a 
steamboat  once,  and  when  the  captain  came  around  to  collect 
the  fare,  he  jumped  overboard.  He  walked  ashore  in  fifteen  feet 
of  water.  He  was  such  a  sponger  he  drew  the  water  all  up,  and 
walked  clean  ashore.     Once  he  hired  two  Chinamen  to  blast 

(1) 


5 

CLARENCE     McGOWAN'S     TROUBLES.— Con- 
cluded. 

rocks.  They  put  in  too  much  powder,  and  the  rocks  blasted 
thein  fifteen  feet  up  in  the  air.  When  they  came  down,  he  took 
it  out  of  their  wages  for  the  time  that  they  were  up. 

Sold,  sold,  etc. 
Wherever  I  go,  I  am  bound 

To  pluck  misfortune's  bitter  fruits ; 
And  find  myself  sold  everywhere, 

Except  about  the  boots. 
Come,  Fortune,  turn  your  wheel  again, 

And  be  a  little  fair ; 
And  give  a  good  turn  for  one 
Who's  been  sold  everywhere. 

Sold,  sold,  etc. 

STARS  IN  DE  SKY. 

Burlesque  Camp-Meeting  Sono. 

Written  and  sung  by  Harey  Kernell. 

Gabriel,  blow  dat  silver  horn, 

Oh,  my  hallaleuah  ! 
We  beat  the  debbil,  sure  as  you're  born  j 

Oh,  my  hallaleuah  ! 
We  are  going  to  glory  bv-and-by. 

Oh,  my  hallaleuah  !      4$ 
We  will  meet  de  angels  near  the  sky. 
Oh,  my  hallaleuah  1 

chorus.  * 

De  railroad  train  am  passing  through, 
De  world  am  getting  out  of  view ; 
The  sisters  dey  am  going,  too ! 
I  will  meet  you  by-and-by — by-and-by. 
Every  star  in  de  sky  had  a  number, 
Number  one,  number  two,  number  three; 
Good  Lord,  by-an-d-by — by-and-by. 
Good  Lord,  ,by-and-by. 

What  makes  the  debbil  hate  me  sol 

Oh,  my  hallaleuah  ! 
He  had  a  hold  on  me,  but  he  let  me  go, 

Oh,  my  hallaleuah  ! 
So  look  out,  sisters,  and  bar  in  mind, 

Oh,  my  hallaleuah ! 
If  he  does  catch  you,  he  won't  treat  you  kind, 

Oh,  my  hallaleuah ! 

De  railroad,  etc, 
(2) 


SONG  AND  DANCE. 

Aie. — "  Martha  Jane  Barew.  " 

Written  for  Harrt  Kernem,  by  E.  McCcrdy. 

There  was  a  man  named  Pat  McCann, 

He  courted  a  girl  named  Mary  Ann, 

He  loved  her  very  dearly,  yes,  he  loved  her  as  his  life, 

He  dressed  so  gay  ©n  Patrick's  day — 

He  popped  the  question  right  away — 

And  asked  this  little  darling  if  she  would  be  his  wife ; 

Oh,  to  cry  then  she  began  right  before  this  handsome  man  ; 

"  Arrab,"  says  she,  "  you're  the  biggest  blarney 

I  met  in  all  my  life,'r  said  Mary  Ann  to  Pat  McCann  ; 

''  Go  away  from  me,  you  naughty  man, 

Or  else  I  will  tell  my  mother,  and  she'll  surely  have  your  life.** 

CHontrs. 
Oh,  handsome  Pat  McCann  loved  his  purty  Mary  Annr 
Every  evening  he  would  take  her  out  a-walking, 
He  would  buy  her  an  oyster  stew  and  molasses  candy, 
And  the  way  he  used  to  kiss  her  was  so  shocking. 

Said  Pat  McCann  to  Mary  Ant?;  "  You  are  my  darling  jewel, 
And  if  voks  will  not  accept  my  hand  I'll  go  and  end  my  life." 
Said  Mary  Ann  to  Pat  McCaun, 
"  I  love  you  mors  tj^feauy  man, 

And  ratber  than  reflate  your  hand  F1I  be  your  loving  wife." 
h,  he  bought  her  then  the  ring, 

And  many  agother  purty  thing;  he  bought  her  silks  and  sa!>*»* 
Enough  to  last  her  life;  and  although  it  was  Lent 
To  church  Shey  went  to  ask  the  father 
For  his  consent  to  marry  this  loving  couple, 
And  make  them  man  and  wife. 

Oh,  handsome  Pat,  etc. 


How  Pat  McCann  and  Mary  Ann 
Are  as  happy  as  salt  water  clams  ; 
The  divil  a  couple  in  all  the  land 
With  hearts  so  full  of  joy,  for  some  time  last  spring 
A  little  thing  dropped  in  one  day  to  hear  Pat  sing, 
It's  nice  to  be  the  father  of  a  bouncing  baby  bay  • 
Now  they're  lake  turtle  doves, 
They  are  happy  in  their  loves, 

All  cares  and  sorrows  an*  unknown,  all  troubles  M*ey  defy  j 
I  wish  my  name  wa<  Pat  McCann, 
You  would  be  my  Mary  Ann  ; 

I  would  hug  and  kiss  you,  darling,  and  be  married  by  and  by. 

Oli,  handsome  Pat.  eta- 


THE  O'SHAUGEDOTESSY  GUARDS. 

Written  by  William  Welch. 
As  simg  by  Misa  Adah  Richmond  and  Harby  Kbkhsix. 

Two  brare  boys  in  our  new  uniform, 

Proud  are  we  when  we  shoulder  our  guns; 

We  see  flags  and  banners  floating, 
As  we  go  marching  down  Broadway. 

Then  right  face  about.  {Symp*} 

CHORTTS. 

Then  we  hear  the  drums  a-beatlng, 

And  the  snuste  sweetly  play, 

As  we  go  marching  down  Broadway 

Upon  St.  Patrick'soday-ay-ay! 

We  are  out  on  a  parade  do  you  see, 

Cousin  Mike  and  me — 

We'll  march  away,  well  march  all  day, 

Come  and  join  our  company. 

The  beautiful  girls  all  throng  the  sidewalk, 

And  ware  their  hands  to  our  company  • 
They  always  throw  us  wreaths  and  bouquets, 
And  give  three  cheers  for  Biddy  and  I. 
Then  right  face  about. 

Then  we  hear,  etc.. 

Now  come,  all  young  men,  that's  fond  of  fighting, 
And  roll  your  names  in  our  company ; 

All  son-ows  and  woes  we'll  send  a-kiting, 
And  fight  for  fun  and  liberty. 

Then  we  hear,  etc. 


WHY  DON'T  YOU  HIBE  A  HALL  P 

By  Gbobok  8.  Kxight. 

I  came  out  here  when  very  small, 

The  time  I  don't  know  when, — 
At  first  I  did  not  know  so  much, 

But  I'm  smarter  now  than  then  ; 
I  keep  a  liquor  store  down  town, 

Where  all  the  hoys  did  meet, 
And  the  funny  things  to  me  they  said 

To  you  now  I'll  repeat. 

CHORUS. 

Why  don't  you  IrVe  a  hall  ? 

Oh,  say  go  shoot,  that  hat — 
I  commence  to  think  you  are  too  fresh ; 

Go  jump  in  some  salt  vat, — 
Don't  talk  us  all  to  death  ; 

Oh,  tumble,  do  now,  Ned, — 
Cheese  it  now — give  us  a  rest — 

Swim  outr  you're  over  your  head. 

I  soon  commenced  to  see  and  know 

What  everything  they  meant, 
And  that  the  business  didn't  pay, 

I  couldn't  make  a  cent ; 
So  then  I  put  my  foot  right  down, 

I  likewise  told  my  clerk 
To  tell  them  fellows  when  they'd  come 

That  business  wouldn't  work. 

Why  don't  you,  etc. 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  IRELAND. 

COMIC  RECITATION. 

With  due  condescension  I'd  call  your  attention 
To  what  I  shall  mention  of  Erin  so  green, 

And  without  hesitation  I'll  show  how  that  nation 
Became  of  creation  the  gem  and  the  queen. 

'Twas  early  one  morning  without  any  warning 
That  Vanus  was  born  in  the  beautiful  sea, 

And  by  the  same  token  and  sure  'twas  provoking, 
Her  pinions  were  soaking  and  wouldn't  give  play. 

Old  Neptune,  who  knew  her,  began  to  pursue  her, 
In  order  to  woo  her — the  wicked  old  Jew — 

And  almost  had  caught  her,  a  top  of  the  water, 
Great  Jupiter's  daughter,  which  never  would  do. 

But  Jove,  the  great  Janus,  looked  down  and  saw  Vanus, 
And  Neptune  so  hainous  pursuing  her  wild, 

And  he  spoke  out  in  thunder,  he'd  rend  him  asunder, 
And  sure  'twas  no  wonder  for  chasing  his  child. 

A  star  that  was  flying  hard  by  him  espying, 

He  caught  with  small  trying,  and  down  let  it  snap  j 

It  fell  quick  as  winking  on  Neptune  a-sinking, 
And  gave  him  I'm  thinking  a  bit  of  a  rap. 

That  star  it.  was  dry  land,  both  lowland  and  highland, 
And  formed  a  sweet  island  the  land  of  my  birth ; 

Thus  plain  is  the  story,  that  sent  down  from  glory, 
Old  Erin  asthoie  is  the  gem  of  the  earth. 

Upon  Erin  nately  jumped  Vanus  so  stately, 

But  fainted  kase  lately  so  hard  she  was  pressed, 

Which  much  did  bewilder,  but  ere  it  had  killed  her, 
Her  father  distilled  her  a  drop  of  the  best. 

That  sup  was  victorious,  it  made  her  feel  glorious, 
A  little  uproarious  I  fear  it  rai^ht  prove  ; 

So  how  can  you  blame  us  that  Ireland's  so  famous 
For  drinking  and  beauty,  for  fighting  and  love. 


10 


JAR  DOWN  EVERYBODY. 

End  song,  sung  by  Harry  Kbrnell. 

I  saw  a  jay  bird  on  a  limb, 

I  turned  around  and  winked  at  him, 

I  took  my  gun  and  aimed  at  him, 

Shot  him  in  de  leg,  left  de  marrow  on  de  limb. 

chorus  {Repeat.) 

Over  in  de  Monegeholo, 

Over  in  de  Aliegahnny, 

Jar  down  everybody,  everybody  jar  down, 

Jar  down  every  body,  jar,  jar,  jar  down. 

I  had  a  horse,  his  name  was  Jack, 

I  rode  his  tail  to  save  his  back  ; 

Oh,  how  that  horse  would  rear  and  kick, 

I  coaxed  him  along  with  a  hickory  stick. 

Over  in  de  Monegeholo,  etc. 

Bullfrog  dressed  in  soldier's  clothes, 
Went  down  to  the  riber  to  shoot  some  crows, 
Crows  smelt  powder  and  dey  flew  away, 
Bullfrog  he  was  mad  dat  day. 

Over  in  de  Monegeholo,  etc. 


I  AM  SO  GLAD. 

A  Burlesque  Camp-Meeting  Song. 
Sung  by  Harry  Kerneix. 

I  am  so  glad,  I  am  so  glad, 

When  the  old  ship  Zion  was  passing  by. 

I  am  so  glad,  oh,  you  will  land  on  de  Canaan  shore  ! 

You  rise  up  in  de  morning, 

And  you  look  up  yonder  in  de  sky ; 

And  dere  you  see  the  eagle's  nest, 

And  yar  de  young  ones  cry ; 

I  am  so  glad  you  git  to  glory  by-and-by. 

If  you  get  over  to  Jordan, 

And  you  don't  see  me  over  dar  ; 
Send  me  a  ring  for  a  token  of  your  love, 

Likewise  a  lock  of  your  hair. 
I  look  way  over  yonder, 

And  what  you  'spect  I  see  1 
A  great  big  angel  on  de  boom  of  a  ship, 

A  beckoning  along  to  me. 
I  am  so  glad, 

You  get  to  Jordan  by-and-by  I 


11 

THE    WHISTLING    THIEF. 

[Copyright,  1875,  by  Robt.  M.  DeWitt.] 
A  SKETCH  FOR  TWO  OR  THREE  CHARACTERS. 

{Scene,  a  cabin,  window  open,  Cliair,  table,  &c.  If  nece* 
9ary,  the  character  of  tlie  old  lady  may  be  personated  by  Pat. 
A  dress  thrown  oner  his  costume,  and  a  cap,  which  can  be  easily 
removed,  may  complete  his  attire.] 

[Enter  Mary,  singing.] 

When  Pat  comes  over  the  hill,  his  colleen  for  to  see, 

His  whistle,  loud  and  shrill,  the  signal  was  to  be. 

"  0  Mary !  "   my  mother  cries,  "  there's  somebody  whistling, 

sure." 
"  No,  mother,  its  only  the  wind,  that's  whistling  through  the 

door, 
That's  whistling  through  the  door." 

[Pat,  outside,  whistles  "  Garry  Owen."] 

Mart  (listening).— Oh,  that's  the  dear  boy.  Now  if  I  only 
can  keep  him  here  unbeknown  to  my  mother. 

[Enter  the  Mother,  with  a  crutch.] 

Mother. — Mary  dear.    Mary,  I  say.    Where  are  you  1 
Mart. — Here,  mother  dear.     What  is  it  you're  after  want- 
ing with  me? 

Mother. — Didn't  I  hear  somebody  whistling,  Mary? 
Mart. — Sure,  it  was  the  wind,  mother. 

Mother  sings. 

I've  lived  a  long  time,  Mary,  in  this  wide  world,  my  dear ; 
But  the  wind  to  whistle  a  tune  like  that  I  never  before  did 
hear. 

Mart  sings. 
But,  mother,  you  know  the  fiddle  hangs  just  behind  the 

chink, 
And  the  wind  upon  the  strings  of  it  is  playing  a  tone,  I 
think ; 
Ifl  playing  a  tune,  I  think. 

(1) 


12 

THE    WHISTLING    THIEF.— [Continued.] 

[Pat,  outside,  barks  like  a  dog.] 

Mother  sings. 
The  dog  is  barking  now,  and  a  fiddle  can't  play  a  tune. 
Mary 


But,  mother,  you  know  that  dogs  will  bark  when  they  see 
the  moon. 

Mother  sings. 

But  how  can  he  see  the  moon,  when  you  know  he's  old  and 

blind  ; 
Blind  dogs  can't  see  the  moon,  nor  fiddles  be  played  by  the 

wind, 
Nor  fiddles  be  played  by  the  wind. 

[Pat,  outside,  imitates  a  pig.] 

Mother  sings. 

And  there  now  is  the  pig,  oneasy  in  his  mind. 

Mary  sings. 

But,  mother,  you  know  the  saying,  that  pigs  can  see  the 
wind. 

Mother  sings. 

That's  all  very  well  in  the  day,  but  allow  me,  miss,  to  re- 
mark 

That  pigs,  no  more  than  ourselves,  can  see  anything  in  the 
dark, 
Can  see  anything  in  the  dark. 

Mother. — So,  so,  my  daughter ;  get  out  wid  your  excuses. 
You  can't  decave  your  ould  mother. 
Mary. — But,  mother  dear. 
Mother. — Oh,  go  'long  wid  ye. 

Mother  sings. 
I'm  not  such  a  fool  as  ye  think,  I  know  very  well  it  is  Pat. 

[Goes  to  window.] 
Get  out,  ye  whistling  thief,  and  get  along  home  out  of  that  ; 
(2) 


13 

THE    WHISTLING    THIEF.— [Continued.] 

And  you,  miss,  be  off  to  your  bed ;  don't  bother  me  wid  youi 

tears ; 
For  though  I've  lost  my  eyes,  I  haven't  yet  lost  my  ears, 
I  haven't  yet  lost  my  ears. 

[Exit  Mother,  shaking  her  crutch  at  Mary.] 

Pat  {at  window). — Whist,  Mary  mavourneen !  Darlint,  ar» 
you  there  ? 

Mary. — Yes,  Pat ;  but  be  aisy,  me  mother  is  wide  awake. 

Pat. — Oh,  bad  luck  to  her — I  mane,  God  bless  the  ould 
woman.     [Climbs  through  window.'] 

Mary. — Oh,  I  know  she'll  hear  us.  If  she  does,  sure  she'll 
be  after  breaking  every  bone  in  your  body. 

Pat. — What  do  you  suppose  I'd  care  for  that  ? 

Mary. — Don't  come  whistling  round  the  door  any  more, 
Pat.     You  ought  to  know  better. 

Pat. — Sure,  I'll  whistle  now  if  you  don't  stop  me  mouth 
wid  a  kiss  from  those  rosy  lips  of  yours. 

Mary. — Oh,  go  along  wid  yer  blarney. 

Pat. — Well,  if  you  won't  give  me  one  I'll  stale  it.  [Kisses 
her.] 

Mother  (outside). — Mary,  Mary,  come  in  ;  what  kapes  yei 
so  long  ?  Do  you  want  me  to  come  and  fetch  yer  ?  It's  bed* 
time  an  hour  ago,  sure. 

Mary. — Pat,  go  quick ! 

Pat. — Bedad,  I  will.  Good-bye,  darlint.  [Kisses  her.]  I'll 
go  outside  the  same  way  I  came  in.  [Jumps  through  the  win- 
dow.] 

Mary. — I'm  coming,  mother  dear. 

[Enter  Mother.] 

Mother. — Is  it  all  night  you'd  be  after  staying  up  ?    Come, 
along,  yer  ungrateful  girl.     Sure,  yer  head's  so  full  of  that 
whistling  thief,  Pat,  that  yer  can't  rest.     Get  in  wid  yer. 
A  Mary. — Yes,  mother.    [Kisses  hand  at  window.] 

[Exit  Mother  and  Mary.] 

Pat  (leaning  on  window-sill). — When  I  oome  again,  bedad, 
I'll  come  wid  a  still  tongue  in  my  head.     Take  my  advice  : 
(3) 


14 


THE    WHITTLING    THIEF.— [Continued.] 

Pat  sings. 

Now,  boys,  don't  courting  go  too  near  to  tlie  house,  d'ye  mind; 
Unless  you're  certain  sure  the  old  woman's  both  deaf  and 

blind  ; 
The  days  when  they  were  young,  forget  they  never  can, 
They're  able  to  tell  the  difference  'twixt  a  fiddle,  pig,  dog 

and  a  man  ; 
A  fiddle,  pig,  dog  and  a  man. 


THE   WHISTLING   THIEF. 

[Copyright,  1868,  by  Oliver  Ditson  &  Co.] 

Published  by  permission  of  Oliver  Ditson  &  Co.,  owners  of  copyright. 


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(4) 


THE    "WHISTLING    THIEF.— [Concluded.] 


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Accompaniment,  is  published  by  Olives  Ditson  &  Co.,  277  Washington 
Street,  Boston.    Price,  80  Cents. 

(5) 


THE  BOULEVAED. 

A  POPULAR  IRISH  SONG. 

The  Music  of  this  song  is  published  by  E.  H.  Harding,  229  Bowery ,  Ne^f 
York.    Price  10  cents. 

As  sung  by  John  Eoach. 

Good  evening  to  you,  one  and  all, 

You're  looking  well  I  see  ; 
I  took  a  trip  in  a  great  big  sWp 

Acrooss  the  raging  sea  ; 
I've  been  out  of  work  a  month  or  more, 

And  you  know  it's  very  hard ; 
But  now  I've  got  a  job  to  do 

Beyant  on  the  Boulevard. 

CHORUS. 

Whist  I  ad  id-y  !  whist  I  ad-i-d-y! 

Times  are  very  hard, 
But  now  I've  got  a  job  to  do 

Beyant  on  the  Boulevard. 

So  here  I  am,  an  Irishman, 

And  to  work  I'm  not  afraid  ; 
While  my  son  does  carry  the  pick,  my  boys 

And  I  do  handle  the  spade; 
My  Uncle  Dan  is  an  Alderman, 

And  he  holds  a  grip  in  the  ward ; 
'Tis  him  that  gives  the  tickets  out 

To  work  on  the  Boulevard. 

Whist  I  ad-i-dy !  etc. 

So  now  farewell,  I'm  going  away, 

I  can  no  longer  stay  ; 
For  if  I  sing  any  more  for  you 

I'll  lose  a  half  a  day  ; 
I'm  going  down  to  the  City  Hall, 

To  try  and  get  a  card 
To  put  my  father's  uncle  to  work 

Beyant  on  the  Boulevard. 

Whist  I  ad-i-dy  !  eU. 


17 
"  I'M  WHAT  YOU  CALL,  A  MILITARY  MAN  !  " 

Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1874,  by  E.  H  Handing, 
in  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  "Washington,  D.  C. 

The  Music  of  this  song  is  published  by  E.  H.  Harding,  288  Bowery,  New 
York.     Price  10  cents. 

"Writte  .  and  Composed  by  Geo.  H.  Hart. 

I'm  what  you  call  a  military  man, 

If  you  doubt  me,  I  will  prove  it,  for  I  can. 

I  stand  just  six  foot  two,  "  sans  "  a  stocking  or  a  shoe, 

And  a  finer  soldier  you  will  never  scan. 

CHOBUS. 

To  a  "  right  shoulder  shift,"  my  musket  I  will  lift, 

And  all  the  pretty  faces  I  will  scan,  oh, 

When  the  hand  does  sweetly  play,  we  will  march,  march  away, 

For  I'm  what  you  call  a  military  m?n. 

Whenever  I  go  out  upon  parade, 

I  awaken  in  the  breast  of  every  maid, 

A  feeling  they  admire,  for  I    set  their  heart  on  fire, 

And  of  military  men,  they're  not  afraid. 

To  a  "  right  shoulder  shift,"  etc. 

When  they  see  me  marching  proudly  down  Broadway, 
They  look  at  one  another,  and  they  say, 
'•'  Oh,  what  a  splendid  man,  just  look  at  him,  Mary  Ann, 
I  can't  resist  his  military  way." 
r  To  a  "  right  shoulder  shift,"  etc. 

Where'ere  1  go  I  greatly  am  admired, 

And  with  such  martial  feeling  I'm  inspired, 

That  the  ladies  all  assert  that  with  me  they'd  rather  flirt, 

For  of  military  men  they're  never  tired. 

To  a  "  riaht  shoulder  shift,"  etc. 


18 

THE  FLANNEL  MOUTH  MICK. 

Written  by  William  Welch  of  Simmons  and  Slocum's  Minstrels. 

I  know  you'll  have  pity 

When  you  hear  what  I  say — 
The  way  I  have  been  treated 

By  the  blackguards  each  day, 
Who  stand  on  the  corners, 

As  I  pass  them  by, 
You  can  hear  them  say  plainly, 

Arrah,  "  stag  the  old  guy.  " 

CHORUS. 

Oh,  they  yell  out,  "  You  terrier, 

Go  shoot  that  hat  quick  !  " 
They  call  me  a  chow  and 

A  flannel  mouth  mick. 

of 

The  other  day  while  a- walking 

I  went  down  the  street, 
A  charming  young  damsel 

By  chance  I  did  meet ; 
Says  I,  '•  You  look  charming, 

Ah,  cushla  ma  vick  ;" 
Says  she,  "  Drop  on  yourself, 

You  flannel  mouth  mick.  " 

Oh,  they  yell  out,  eta 

When  election  day  comes, 

I  know  what  they'll  say — 
"  How  are  you,  Mr.  McGuinness, 

How  are  you  1  good  day.  " 
They'll  hand  me  a  ticket, 

Say,  "Go  vote  it,  now  quick — " 
I'm  a  gentleman  then, 

And  no  flannel  mouth  mick. 

Oh,  they  yell  out,  etc. 


19 


KALAMAZACK. 

She's  gone  to  join  the  circus, 

She's  an  actor  in  the' ring, 
She's  teaching  the  elephant  how  to  dance, 

And  the  hip-po-po-laaius  to  sing; 
I  know  I'll  never  see  her  more, 

She's  trav3lling  now  by  rail, 
She's  getting  ten  dollars  a  day,  my  boys, 

For  scrubbing  the  monkey's  tail. 

CHORUS. 

For  she  is  my  moming  glory, 

And  I  wish  she  would  come  back ; 
I'd  buy  her  a  bran  new  pair  of  socks, 

Likewise  a  summer  straw  hat, 
A  pound  of  cheese,  a  barrel  of  fleas ; 

I'd  ride  her  out  in  a  hack, 
My  beautiful,  sweet  Elizabeth, 

From  the  town  of  Kalamazack. 

When  first  we  was  acquainted 

She  was  with  the  soap-fat  man, 
She  was  chewing  glue. for  Miss  Barue, 

Who  keeps  a  peanut  stand  ; 
But  now  she's  getting  wealthy, 

She  has  left  me  here  forlorn  ; 
I  hope  she'll  die  or  get  rammed  in  the  eye, 

With  a  rack-o-ri-n uses'  horn. 

For  she  is,  etc. 

I  can't  live  any  longer 

Unless  she  does  return  ; 
I'll  swallow  a  stool  or  a  three-legged  mule, 

Or  I'll  cut  off  my  head  with  a  churn. 
And  if  that  doesn't  kill  me, 

Myself  I'll  tie  in  a  sack — 
I'll  jump  in  the  river  and  take  a  bath, 

For  my  Lizzie  of  Kalamazack. 

For  she  is,  ete. 


20 

ALDEBMAN  PLYNN. 

Written  by  George  Thatcheb,  the  great  Ethiopian  Comedian. 

I  guess  you  have  heard  of  fighting,  (Symp.) 
Now,  that's  what  I  delight  in  ;  (Symp.) 
As  I  go  down  the  street,  boys, 

With  ray  sword  drawn  in  my  hand, 
I  march  to  the  tune  of  the  Mulligan  Guards, 

As  played  by  the  Irish  band. 

CHORUS. 

There's  Alderman  Flynn,  what  do  you  think  of  him! 
He  is  elected  now  by  a  thousand  solid  men ; 
And  the  boys  all  shout  when  I  turn  out. 
Hurrah,  for  Alderman  Flynn  ! 

I  am  pet,of  all  the  ladies,  [Symp.) 

I  am  fond  of  all  the  babies ;  (Symp.) 

My  appearance  is  engaging — 

It  is  upon  my  word. 

I  expect  to  be  a  solid  man 

Over  all  the  wards. 

.     There's  Alderman  Flynn,  etc. 

I  thought  I'd  go  to  the  army,  (Symp.) 

I  thought  the  bullets  wouldn't  harm  me ;  (Symp.) 

I  went  to  go  to  the  rear  one  day,  for  to  get  cup  of  tea, 

When  a  cannon  ball  come, 

And  hit  me  in  the  thumb, 

And  knocked  the  leg  off  me. 

Spoken. — When  I  came  home  a  wounded  hero  it  was  differ- 
ent. They  wanted  me  to  grind  an  organ  on  the  corners;  they 
said  one  good  turn  deserves  another,  and  now  the  boys  say 
when  they  see  me — 


Alderman  Flynn,  with  his  dizzy  shin, 
That  hat  he  wears  has  been  called  in  ; 
And  they  all  do  shont  when  I  turn  out, 
There's  dizzy  Alderman  Fiynn. 


21 


THE  LABORING  MAN. 

Written  by  George  Thatcheb. 

Mt  name  it  is  Pat  Connors, 

I  am  happy  as  you  can  see-, 
I  was  born  in  Cork  in  Ireland, 

That  emerald  of  the  sea  ; 
I  left  my  native  country, 

My  dear  old  native  sod, 
And  earned  an  honest  living  here 

By  carrying  the  hod. 

CHORUS. 

So  gaze  upon  me,  while  I'm  here, 

I  will  do  the  best  I  can, — 
My  motives  are  pure,  although  I  am  poor, 

And  only  a  laboring  man. 

When  I  came  to  this  countrjr 
A  dollar  a  day  was  good, 
But  now  if  a  man  gets  two  and  half 

It  will  scarcely  buy  him  food  ; 
But  I  will  struggle  through  the  world, 

And  do  the  best  I  can — 
I'll  stick  to  politics,  and  some  day 
I'll  be  an  alderman. 

So  gaze,  etc. 

Oh,  when  the  war  it  broke  out, 

I  for  a  soldier  did  go, 
I  shouldered  my  gun  in  the  69tb, 

And  you  know  we  were  not  slow ; 
It  was  down  upon  Virginia's  soil, 

With  General  Kearney  we  gave  them  the  gripes, 
For  all  true-born  Irishmen 

Stick  up  for  the  stars  and  stripes. 

So  gaze,  etc. 


22 


MRS.   CASEY'S  RAFFLB. 

Written  and  sung  by  Haert  Ke«nell 

If  you  listen  to  me  for  awhile 

I'll  tell  you  a  tale  ; 
You  all  know  Mrs.  Casey,  down 

The  street,  that  sells  the  ale. 
She  gave  a  raffle  for  a  stove, 

And  to  have  a  dance  as  well ; 
And-I  being  the  floor  manager, 

Had  tickets  for  to  sell. 

Spoken. — Mrs.  Casey  is  a  particular  friend  of  John  McSwe- 
gan,  and  a  full  cousin  of  William  Waterhouse  ;  and  her  husband 
Sam  O'Casey,  alias  Gas  House  Sam — (he  was  once  employed  in 
the  Gas  House  at  sixty  dollars  a  month,  wheeling  smoke  out  in 
a  push-cart) — he  went  to  the  war  as  a  soldier,  and  never  re- 
turned, and  Mrs.  Casey  raffled  off  the  old  stove. 

CHORUS. 

But  oh,  what  a  row !  I  will  tell  it  to  you  now  ! 
Breaking  heads,  with  slats  of  the  beds  ; 
McGuffin  fainted,  I  thought  he  was  dead, 
O'Brien  lost  his  hat^,what  do  you  think  of  that  1 
Mrs.  O'Leary  lost  her  hoops  at  Casey's  raffle  I 

Now,  in  came  John  McTntee, 

Along  with  Rodger  Dunbar  ; 
"When  up  jumped  O'Brien,  the  fiddler, 

And  says,  this  is  going  too  far. 
But  before  he  had  time  to  open  his  month, 

He  was  lying  on  the  floor ; 
And  I  like  a  fighting  man, 

Busted  through  the  door. 

Spoken. — Begorra,  I  never  saw  such  a  fracas  in  my  born 
days  before.  Whin  they  knocked  O'Brien  down,  he  bawled  out 
for  Nixey,  and  cheese  it ;  and  they  came  in  with  billy-jacks,  and 
knocked  every  body  down  that  came  in  reach  of  them.  And 
Nancy  McGowan  got  excited  and  jumped  clear  out  of  a  pull- 
back  dress. 

But  oh !  what  a  row,  etc. 

The  raffling  then  did  commence, 

As  you  may  understand ; 
McGuffin  threw  forty-four, 

And  ODonnell  called  his  hand. 
But,  Mrs.  Casey  got  vexed  then, 

And  ordered  thim  all  out; 
When  the  fiddler  played  Patrick's  day, 

Then  you  had  ought  to  hear  them  shout. 

(1) 


23 

MBS.  CASEY'S  RAFFLE.— Concluded. 

SroKEir. — Such  shouting  you  never  heard  in  your  life  ;  but 
when  the  supper  was  announced,  everything  became  quiet. 
They  had  a  splendid  supper.  There  was  mackerel  and  ice- 
cream, and  molasses  and  oysters.  John  Bradley  went  to  wait 
on  the  ladies.  He  asked  one  girl  what  she  would  have  1  Says 
she,  "I  will  have  quail."  Says  John,  "You  will  have  bean 
soup,  or  you  will  give  your  seat  to  Biddy  Doyle."  Another 
young  girl  wanted  an  egg  dropped  on  toast;  says  John,  "  You 
will  get  some  old  hen  to  drop  it,  or  you  will  not  get  it  here  to- 
night." Then  Bermidas  Conklin  wanted  to  make  a  speech. 
Says  he,  "  Would  I  were  an  eagle,  that  I  might  fly  over  the  sea 
and  spread  the  liberty  of  my  country  !"  Says  Jim  Kelly,  "  Sit 
down  ;  you  would  be  shot  for  a  goose  before  you  got  half  way." 
But  it  was — ■ 

But  oh  !  what  a  row,  etc. 


THERE'S  A  BOTTLE  ON  THE  MANTLE. 

Am.— "Letter  in  the  Candle." 

* 

There's  a  bottle  on  the  mantle, 

But  it  don't  belong  to  me  ; 
If  I  could  only  smell  the  flavor, 

How  happy  I  would  be. 
But  I  dare  not  approach  it, 

For  fear  some  one  would  come  in  ; 
But  I  would  like  to  take  a  snifter, 

For  I  know  it's  full  of  gin. 


Small  drop  of  gin, 

To  wet  my  fiery  tongue  ; 
I  loved  you  since  my  childhood, 

Many  songs  of  you  I  have  sung. 

Oh  !  how  sadly  I  remember, 

It  was  two  short  months  ago ; 
I  had  a  bully  lunch  route, 

But  they  took  me  down  below. 
They  said  I  was  a  vagarant — 

And  I  think  it  was  a  sin 
To  lock  me  in  a  dungeon, 

And  deprive  me  of  my  gin. 

Small  drop  of  gin,  etc. 
(2) 


>A 


THE     SCAMP; 
OR,  THEY  CAN'T  HOLD  A  CANDLE  TO  MB. 


Written  by  Hexry  Pettitt. 


a 


^=£=J: 


Composed  by  Lastce  Majob. 


*-* 


^f 


=3 


I      flat  -  ter     roy  -  self  I'm      a 


rogue, 


And 


££=£ 


can -did  -  ly     own    I'm     a  cad. A     sharp,   a 


if 


rn — r— K r-fs — is — ^ — h — fs— £ 


leg,        a      va  -  ga-bond,  And   ev  -  ry  thing  else  that      is 


I Zh^l-i — 0 


-*-—*- 


±=dbz 


Z-* 


^r-4 


bad.          I  proved  to     my 

i K it— 1*- fc: ^— 

pa -rents   a     bane,                A 

r— 1 h N-t — (S N K 

— p — k — ?s — n     n — J— 

lj= ij_j<_j 

^         ±         J 

i—i-i-Lja   J 

-4-1—0 '-%— 

>         * * 

per-  feet  young  fiend  to  my        nurse;       And   ev  -  e  -   ry 


1  l  7  f  if 

-J — h— rrf-jK  d   ^ 

zS      _+=*_* 

3=±-^%  i^t-t=~~ 

live,  I'm  get  -  ting  from 


1/       — 
bad  to     worse. 


Oh!    if    there  was    ev    er 


t    h  -»,-£ 


B* 


;=^^=^ 


m^ 


scamp,  I      flat  -  ter     my-self    I      am 

(1) 


From 


2b 


THE     SCAMP.— [Concluded.] 


rf 


I 


i 


-* — 0-— + — 5- 

William      the    Norman     to     Brigham  the  Mormon,  They 

<  N  N  k.  !  S 


£ 


1 


s=nu£ 


can't    hold        a 


can  -    die 


I  was  leader  in  mischief  at  school, 

Though  always  so  humble  and  meek ; 
And  when  I  discovered  a  chance  of  rewawf, 

I  was  always  informer  and  sneak. 
By  the  evil  example  I  set, 

Other  boys  into  mischief  were  led ; 
But  I  always  managed  to  pocket  the  spoil, 

And  get  other  boys  wolloped  instead. — Cno. 

When  a  man  I  went  into  the  world, 

I  plundered  the  helpless  and  poor; 
Yet  always  got  off  with  a  snug  little  sum, 

When  it  came  to  a  question  of  law. 
I  started  benevolent  funds, 

And  spouted  at  Exeter  Hall, 
I  started  loan  offices,  hospitals,  clubs, 

And  finally  swindled  them  all.  — Cho. 

In  the  City  my  name  I  keep  up, 

And  swindling  comp'nies  promote ; 
Yet  always  creep  out  with  the  bulk  of  the  fund*, 

Before  it's  found  out  it  won't  float. 
I'm  an  alderman,  and  as  M.  P. 

To  stand  I've  received  an  invite  ; 
And  if  I  get  in,  why,  my  party  I'll  sell, 

And  Gladstone  will  make  me  a  knight. — Cho. 
(2) 


/ 


PAY  FOR  THE  LAST  ROUND. 

Am.— "  Wait  till  the  Moonlight/1 

Down  in  the  Fourth  Ward  on  a  pleasant  little  corner, 

I  compliment  myself  I  own  a  liquor  store  ; 

It  is  not  a  place  like  where  Jack  Horner 

Eat  his  Christmas  pudding,  but  a  far  superior  place. 

It  is  not  a  cafe — it  is  not  a  palace, 

It  is  not  a  dew  drop  inn,  or  any  such  a  place  ; 

We  are  not  at  all  gall  us — we  do  not  take  taffy, 

But  always  look  a  man  square  in  the  face. 

Spoken. — Yes,  I  have  a  fine  saloon  now.  But  I  have  a  great 
time  with  the  young  fellows  that  frequent  my  saloon.  A  man 
came  in  the  other  day  and  asked  for  a  kerosene  cock-tail. 
Says  I,  "  Maybe  you  want  a  coal-oil  lamp  punch  V  Says  he, 
"I'll  punch  you,  if  you  come  out  from  behind  the  bar."  Says 
I,  "  Me  young  stripling,  if  I  walk  around  there  and  hit  you  with 
my  left  hand,  I  will  fell  you  like  an  ox."  Says  he  back  then 
to  me,  "  You  have  too  much  chin  flbr  a  terrier ;"  and  says  I, 
"  You  have  too  much  lip  for  a  bull  pup."  But  he  sat  down  and 
called  for  a  glass  of  porter.  He  didn't  pay  for  it,  and  when  he 
called  for  another,  says  I — 


Pay  for  the  last  round,  that's  what  you  called  for, 

Then  you  can  have  anything  you  want ; 
But  until  you  do,  sir,  the  next  one  you  call  for, 

I  will  bet  you  five  dollars  you'll  get  the  bounce. 

My  wife  was  a  German  before  we  were  married, 

Her  name  it  was  Katrina.  or  something  of  the  kind ; 

We  live  about  as  quiet— we  never  do  get  flurried, 

She's  a  thoroughbred  you  can  bet  your  life,  and  I  am  glad 

she's  mine. 
She  is  not  a  dandy,  or  a  cologne  water  daisy, 
She's  very  neat  and  hardy  is  my  mistress  Jane  O'Doyle; 
We  are  a  couple  to  admire,  if  you  knew  her  you  would  say, 
We  don't  set  the  world  on  fire,  but  always  pay  our  way. 

Spoken. — Last  week  I  took  in  some  boarders,  and  I  have  had 
no  peace  since.  One  was  a  circus  actor,  and  he  took  the  feath- 
er bed  in  the  cellar,  and  be  heavens  he  commenced  practising 
pyramids  on  it.  The  other  was  a  Negro  actor,  and  done  noth- 
ing but  yah  yah  here,  and  yah  yah  there.  When  I  asked  him 
his  name,  says  he,  "  I  am  Cully,  the  cutter !"  and  I  hear  since 

(1) 


27 
PAY  FOR  THE  LAST  ROUND.— Concluded. 

it  is  Jimmy  Rodgsrs.  Divil  the  cent  of  board  have  they  paid 
since  they  came.  The  other  mornjng  I  told  them  not  to  be  so 
familiar  with  the  butter,  that  there  was  good  molasses  on  the 
table.  Says  they,  "  Oh,  shoot  the  molasses  !"  Says  I,  "  Don't  do 
that ;"  and  when  the  meat  is  put  on  the  table,  they  make  a  glam 
at  the  lean  and  leave  the  fat  for  the  other  boarders.  But  I  will 
get  rid  of  the  boarders  as  quick  as  I  can,  and  start  a  lunch 
bar.  I  asked  my  wife  the  other  day  if  she  liked  oysters'?  She 
said  "  The  only  oyster  she  ever  ate  was  a  clam,  and  it  made  her 
sick."  But  you  can  bet  any  man  comes  in  my  saloon  only 
cheats  me  once,  for  I  say — 

Pay  for  the  last  round,  etc. 


IRISH  BLADES. 

Sung  by  Murphy  and  Moston. 

We're  two  roving  blades  from  old  Killarney. 

And  the  pretty  colleens  call  us  bouncing  Barneys ; 

We're  the  Irish  boys' can  tip  to  tltem  the  blarney, 

And  dear  old  Paddy's  Land,  that's  our  home,  do  you  mind  ; 

Just  a  few  years  ago  we  took  a  notion 

For  to  take  a  trip  across  the  briny  ocean ; 

Our  hearts  were  all  in  a  commotion, 

Since  we  left  that  little  isle  so  far  away,  do  you  mind. 


For  we  are  ever  bright  and  gay,  singing,  dancing  all  the  day, 

This  caubeen  of  a  hat  we're  ever  wearing, 

Although  we  are  from  our  homes  afar, 

Our  hearts  are  ever  there ; 

No  Land  we'll  ever  see  can  ever  wean 

Our  love  from  dear  old  Ireland. 


When  we  landed  in  Columbia's  nation, 

Among  the  girls  we  caused  a  great  sensation ; 

We're  the  happiest  Irish  pair  that's  in  the  nation, 

And  dear  old  Paddy's  land  that's  our  home,  do  you  mind; 

When  at  night  the  bright  eyes  are  glancing, 

For  the  colleens  fair  you  will  always  see  us  dancing, 

We  are  two  Irish  boys  that's  always  fond  of  prancing, 

And  to  please  you  sure  that  is  our  aim. 

For  we  are,  etc. 
(2) 


28 

PAKADE  OF  THE  A.  O.  H. 

Written  for  Harry  Kernell  by  G.  A.  McCtjrdy. 
A  i»— "  Connemara  Coockoos." 

I'm  a  gay  young  chap  from  Erin  and  they  call  me  Dandy  Pat, 
I  wear  a  green  regalia,  a  harp,  and  shamrock  in  my  hat ; 
I  joined  the  Ancient  Order;  we're  the  boys  that  looked  so  gay 
When  we  marched  in  the  procession  on  last  St.  Patrick's  day, 
And  oh,  such  music,  such  music,  such  music  as  we  had  all  day, 
Such  music,  such  music,  how  sweet  the  bands  did  play. 

Hugh  Maginnis  was  chief  marshal  and  he  rode  a  fine  white  horse, 
With  a  sword  and  sash  beside  him,  oh !  boys  he  was  the  boss  ! 
With  a  smile  on  every  feature,  and  a  uniform  so  gay, 
The  ladies  all  smiled  on  him  as  we  marched  along  the  way, 
And    oh,  such   winking,  such  winking,  such  winking    as  was 

there  that  day, 
Such  winking,  such  winking,  they  winked  the  livelong  day. 

'Twas  just  below  the  common  we  fell  into  the  line, 
With  flags  and  banners  flying,  the  day  being  nice  and  fine, 
The  band  played  Garry  Owen  and  then  the  Mulligan  Guard  ; 
And  we  carried  the  harp  of  Erin  beside  the  stripes  and  stars. 
And  oh,  such  tramping,  such  tramping,  such   tramping  as  was 

there  that  day, 
Such  tramping,  such  tramping  all  through  the  mud  and  clay. 

When  we  marched  in  open  order  faith  'twould  make  you  laugh 

to  see 
The  little  stick  leg  cripple  keeping  step  with  Mick  Magee ; 
When  we  come  before  the  marshal's  house  they  brought  us  to 

a  halt, 
And  they  gave  us  just  ten  minutes  for  to  go  and  get  our  malt. 
And  oh,  such  whiskey,  such   whiskey,  such  whiskey  as  was 

drank  that  day, 
Such  whiskey,  such  whiskey,  the  bar-rooms  made  it  pay. 

Then  when  we  were  disbanded  as  quick  as  you  could  wink 
We  all  bounced  down  to  Kelley's  for  to  have  a  drop  to  drink, 
The  whiskey  punch  flew  lively  for  the  liquor  was  so  rare, 
In  less  than  fifteen  minutes  divil  a  sober  man  was  there. 
And  oh,  such  drinking,  such   drinking,  such   drinking  as  was 

there  that  night, 
Such  drinking,  such  drinking,  the  boys  got  awful  tight. 

Mike  Connors  and  Pat  Cronin  then  got  into  a  dispute, 

Mike  said  his  hat  was  finest,  and  Pat  slapped  him  on  the  snoot, 

Then  broken  heads  were  plenty,  the  blood  ran  freely  there, 

Myself  and  long  Dan  Oarty  had  to  waltz  off  on  our  ear. 

And  oh.  such  fighting,  such  fighting,  such  fighting  as  the  boyi 

had  there, 
Such  fighting,  such  fighting,  'twas  like  an  Irish  fair. 


29 


JUST  LIKE  JOHN. 

Sung  by  Matt  Whbbleb. 

Dey  held  a  camp  meeting  down  in  de  swamp, 

Going  to  Jerusalem  just  like  John! 
It  was  so  dark  dey  had  to  have  a  lamp, 

Going  to  Jerusalem  just  like  John  ! 
De  preacher  preached  long,  den  he  preach  loud, 

Going  to  Jerusalem  just  like  John  ! 
He  preached  so  bad  he  scared  de  whole  crowd, 

Going  to  Jerusalem  just  like  John  ! 


When  I  die  I  want  to  6e  ready, 
When  I  die  I  want  to  be  ready, 
When  I  die  I  want  to  he  ready 
Going  to  Jerusalem  just  like  John ! 


Oh,  sisters,  what  make  you  so  cranky  1 

Going  to  Jerusalem  just  like  Jojjn ! 
You  got  as  much  chance  as  Moody  and  Saukey, 

Going  to  Jerusalem  just  like  John  ! 
When  de  horn  blows  we'll  be  dar, 

Going  to  Jerusalem  just  like  John  ! 
To  climb  upon  de  golden  stair, 

Going  to  Jerusalem  just  like  John  ! 

When  I  die,  etc. 


30 

THE  FUNNY  LITTLE  TAILOR. 

Composed  and  sung  by  Pat  Kelly. 

There  was  a  jolly  tailor  once  that  I  knew  well, 
He  kept  a  little  tailor  shop  and  had  pantaloons  to  sell, 
Neck-ties,  broadcloth,  and  everything  like  that, 
And  anyone  could  tell  he  wore  a  very  funny  hat ; 
It  wasn't  very  low  nor  it  wasn't  very  high, 
It  had  a  peculiar  look  that  would  quickly  take  the  eye. 
He  wore  it  on  Sunday  and  every  day  in  the  week, 
And  it  always  looked  glossy,  for  he  kept  it  very  neat. 

He  was  the  pride  of  the  ladies  and  the  envy  of  the  boys  ; 

Wherever  he  would  go  he  wpuld  never  make  a  noise ; 

He  was  as  light  on  his  feet  as  a  canary  on  a  tree ; 

He  was  bashful,  he  was  neat,  and  as  happy  as  could  be  ; 

Whenever  there  was  a  party  he  was  sure  to  be  there, 

With  his  tight  pantaloons  and  glossy  curly  hair ; 

He  could  talk,  dance,  sing,  and  wink,  and  everything  like  that, 

But  no  matter  where  he  would  go  he  wore  his  funny  little  hat. 

He  went  to  a  party  one  night  where  there  was  lots  of  fun, 

He  got  rather  tired  and  sleepy  from  drinking  rum  and  gum ! 

They  put  him  in  the  corner  to  have  a  little  doze, 

When  the  boys  found  it  out  they  put  a  cork  on  his  nose, 

And  they  all  yelled  "  Fire!"  with  a  terrible  shout; 

But  he  quickly  jumped  up  and  quietly  put  it  out ; 

He  took  his  little  hat  and  walked  to  the  door, 

iLnd  he  bade  them  all  good-bye,  and  they  never  saw  him  more. 


• 


31 


JUST  LANDED. 

Aib.— "I  Couldn't  Stay  Away." 

We  came  from  Connemara 

A  few  short  months  ago, 
With  spirits  light  and  airy, 

Two  emigrants,  you  know  ; 
Pray  let  us  ask  your  pardon, 

Smile  on  us  if  you  choose, 
We  come  to  Castle  Garden, 

We're  the  two  Irish  cuckoos. 

CHORUS. 

For  we've  just  landed,  just  landed, 
We  landed  over  there,  you  know  ; 

We've  landed,  just  landed, 
We're  the  two  Irish  cuckoos. 

i 

Cutting  turf  was  our  occupation 

In  the  bogs  of  Allen  then  ; 
But  they  say  that  in  this  nation 

We'll  at  least  be  aldermen  ;  . 
We'll  run  for  big  positions 

In  offices  of  note, 
We'll  join  the  politicians. 

And  of  course  for  us  you'll  vote. 

For  we've  just,  etc. 


When  we  go  back  to  Ireland, 

Sure,  then  it  will  be  said 
We'll  raise  up  in  our  sire-land 

The  green  above  the  red ; 
Then  all  this  world  will  glory 

Whene'er  they  hear  the  news 
Of  Ireland  and  the  story  of 

The  two  Irish  cuckoos. 

For  we've  just,  et«. 


32 


THE  KISING  POLITICIAN. 

Written  and  sung  by  Hakbt  Bennett. 

Good  evening  to  ye  all, 
I've  come  to  make  a  call, 
And  tell  ye  of  my  victory 

Upon  election  day. 
I  ran  for  alderman, 
And  Murphy  was  the  man 
Who  tried  hard  to  defeat  me, 

But  he  gave  himself  away  ; 
He  never  tried  repeatin', 
And  that's  the  way  I  beat  him — 
I  voted  seven  times  myself 

In  the  ould  Fourth  Ward  so  gay. 

CEORUS. 

Now  I'm  a  politician, 
I  hold  a  high  position 
I  gained  by  repetition 
Upon  election  day. 
I  took  the  gang  around 
Where  the  free  lunch  could  be  found, 
And  many's  tho  plate  of  soup,  my  boys. 

Did  they  put  out  of  sight; 
We  swept  the  district  clean, 
And  the  divil  such  a  scene 
Was  known  in  New  York  city,  boys, 

Upon  election  night ; 
Cigar  signs,  barrels,  boards  we  burned 
When  the  victory  it  was  earned 
It  gave  me  satisfaction  and 

It  filled  me  wid  delight. 

Now  I'm  a  politician,  etc. 
And  now  I'll  tell  to  you 
What  I  am  going  to  do  ; 
I'll  not  forget  the  workingmen, 

To  them  I  will-  be  true  ; 
They  shall  have  eight  hours  a  day, 
And  a  fair  amount  of  pay, 
And  live  as  well  as  those  big  bugs 

Upon  Fifth  Avenue ; 
Sure  I'll  improve  the  city, 
For  I  think  it  is  a  pity 
That  poor  men  should  be  starving 

When  there's  public  work  to  do. 

CHORDS. 

So  let  ye  all  be  merry, 
And  don't  ye  vote  contrary, 
And  I  will  show  ye,  one  and  all, 
What  an  Irishman  can  do. 


33 
DUBLIN  POLICEMEN. 

We're  rattling,  roaring  Irish  boys, 

Come  over  here  to  join  the  force,  man ; 
To  protect  the  peace,  keep  down  the  noise, 

There's  none  can  do  it  like  us,  of  course,  man ; 
In  our  suit  of  blue  there  are  but  few 

With  us  can  come  the  Irish  dandy, 
And  if  the  boys  kick  up  any  noise, 

Sure  we  run  them  into  the  cell  quite  handy. 

CHORUS. 

Tearing  away,  (Symp.) 
Always  at  war  and  never  at  peace,  man, 

Tue  ral  a  loo,  (tymp) 
We're  a  pair  of  the  Dublin  new  policemen, 
i 

There's  not  a  gate  nor  garden  wall 

About  the  town  but  what  we  scale  it, 
And  if  anything  there  we  find  at  all, 

Wouldn't  we  be  flats  if  we  didn't  nail  it  1 
Next  day  there  is  a  hue  and  cry, 

Something  stole,  but  to  be  brief,  man, 
And  by  the  hookey,  who  but  ourselves 

Is  running  about  to  cotch  the  thief,  man  ! 

Tearing  away,  etc 


Supposing,  walking  about  all  night, 

In  every  hole  and  corner  creeping, 
Something  we  spy  by  the  pale  moonlight; 

Arrah,  by  my  soul,  it's  a  gintlcman  sleeping, 
His  pockets  we  grope,  his  money  we  take, 

Then  with  our  sticks  on  the  ribs  we're  jobbing  him, 
And  if  perchance  the  poor  soul  should  wake, 

We  tell  him  we  thought  a  thief  was  robbing  him. 

Tearing  away,  etc. 


31 


A  TWO-CENT  SAIL. 

Written  and  sung  by  Hakkt  Bennett. 

The  other  night,  while  feeling  bright, 

I  thought  I'd  have  a  racket ; 
The  thought  itself  was  good  enough, 

But  I'd  no  stamps  to  back  it. 
I  went  to  take  a  two-cent  sail, 

To  keep  my  spirits  merry, 
But  now  I  wish  that  I  had  died 

Before  I  crossed  the  ferry. 


With  lively  boys  and  witching  girls, 

I  tell  you  it  was  merry  ; 
I  never  shall  forget  that  night 

A-crossing  on  the  ferry. 

I  paid  in}7  fare  and  jumped  aboard — 

The  weather  it  was  breezy  ; 
I  didn't  care  for'  wind  or  rain, 

For  I  am  free  and  easy ; 
And  I  began  to  think  and  think 

About  Beecher  and  Frank  Moulton, 
When  all  at  once  I  felt  a  bunk, 

And  then  a  fearful  jolting. 

With  lively  boys,  etc 

I  felt  a  crash,  and  up  I  jumped, 

There  was  a  fearful  clatter ; 
I  looked  about,  and  then  went  out 

To  see  what  was  the  matter. 
A  sal  was  yelling  murder,  and 

She  was  a  fearful  screecher — 
I  saw  a  man  fall  overboard, 

She  said  that  it  was  Beecher. 

With  lively  boys,  etc. 

Then  overboard  I  quickly  jumped 

To  try  and  save  the  preacher, 
Because  I  thought  it  would  he  great 

To  rescue  Henry  Beecher  ; 
But  when  I  struck  the  water,  oh  ! 

You  bet  it  set  me  screaming  ; 
I  found  that  I  had  been  asleep, 

And  jumped  overboard  while  dreaming. 

With  lively  boys,  etc. 


55 
THE  SELDOM-FED  BRIGADE. 

Words  aud  Music  by  Harry  Bennett. 

We  are  the  Seldom-Fed  Brigade, 

As  you  can  plainly  see  ; 
We  often  have  to  miss  our  meals — 

With  us  it  don't  agree. 
One  meal  a  day  is  all  we  get, 

For  that  we  have  to  fight, 
Oatmeal  for  breakfast,  wind  for  lunch, 

And  a  walk  around  at  night. 

CHORUS. 

We're  the  Seldom-Fed  Brigade, 

For  fighting  we're  not  paid, 
And  for  our  grub  we  get  a  club — 

That's  how  our  soup  is  made  ; 
If  soon  we  are  not  paid, 

We'll  have  to  makfe  a  raid, 
To  drive  away  starvation  from 

The  Seldom-Fed  Brigade. 

If  we  could  strike  a  hash  mill  or 

A  lunch  route  on  the  street, 
You  bet  our  baskets  we  would  fill, 

We'd  show  you  how  to  eat ; 
We'd  pulverize  a  restaurant, 

Or  clean  out  a  hotel ; 
If  we  can't  get  a  square  meal,  why, 
Just  let  us  take  a  smell. 

We're  the,  etc. 

Wind  pudding's  all  we  get  to  eat, 

Of  that  we're  awful  sick, 
And  if  we  ask  for  other  grub, 

They'll  hit  us  with  a  brick  ; 
We'll  soon  be  healthy  skeletons — 

Our  clothes  are  getting  loose ; 
Oh,  if  you  want  to  see  us  bust, 

Just  chuck  us  down  a  goose. 

We're  the,  etc. 


36 


UP  A  TREE. 


By  Harry  Clifton. 


You     see     be  -  fore    you   one  who's  been  in     life  through 


ma  -  ny     a  chang-ing  scene,  And  yet  with  -  al     a     lit  -  tie  green,  of 


course,  I  know    it  now:  Although  I've  been  un-for  -  tu-nate.  you 


5: 


J   4 


*r=£ 


^=5= 


will     al  -  low   me      to 


le  -  late   That     once     I    owned    a 


large  es-tate— 'twas  then  friends  used  to  bow;  "Dear  Jack,old  boy,"  they 


theD 


would  say,  "I'm  proud  of  such    a  meet-ing!  How    do     you 


do?  Where  have  you  been  !  You're  look  -  ing  well,      I    see;"  But 

>    _N    >    >-^»     J>    r=N — _$  ■    m   .      & — ^ — N — * 1 £: 


^^^Tj^^^ 


-w — #- 


now  they've  grown  so  very  shy  they  can't   af-ford   a  greeting;  In 

/7\ 


vul  -  gar  phra  -  se 


o  •  gy,    be  -  cause  I'm  "  up     a  tree.1' 
U) 


3? 


"UPA  TREE."— [Concluded.] 


Ch«rus. 


Fd  friends 


in  great  va-ri  -  e-ty,  who  courted  my    bo  -ci  -  e-ty; 

j I s. N         *.      •' 


Came    to  dine,  drank  my  wine,  shook  my  hand  with  glee— I    might 
-S A fc- 


walk  from  now  til]  Whitsuntide,  but  when  they  see  me,  oS  they  glide  And 


*>                        ^ 

|S 

>       IK 

1 

» 

■%r  '.     *        *     '     »        -     •    g        ^ 

^ 

T       * 

-*- 

i»    • 

pass    me    on    the  oth  -  er  side,  be  -  cause  I'm  "up     a  trees'1 

I  onee  could  give  good  dinners,  ah,  'tw&s  then  the  hungry  sinners 
Would  haunt  my  tabie  daily,  praise  my  judgment,  jokes  and  wine ; 
Join  iu  eon vivialiiy,  accept-  my  hospitality, 
Until,  through  prodigality,  my  fortune  -did  decline. 
And  so  did  they,  for  one  by  one  they  left  me  in  my  glory, 
A  friend  I  stood  in  need  of,  but  not  one  could  I  see; 
My  mooeyM  gone  and  so  had  they  -,  well,  'tia  the  same  old  story, 
So  while  you  have  it,  keep  it,  or  you'll  soon  be  uup  a  tree." 
Chorus  : — Yd.  friends,  &c 

I  once  eould  drive  my  four-in-hand,  had  money,  too,  at  my  command. 
Could  "  do  the  grand,"  you  understand— how  foolish  I  have  been! 
I  stand  here  to  exemplify  "  sweet  uses  of  adversity," 
To  prove  my  friends  in  poverty — acquaintances,  I  mean: 
Better  times  will  come  again,  a  lesson  'twill  have  taught  me — 
u  Preserve  me  from  my  friends,"  for  the  future  it  shall  be  ; 
I've  paid  for  my  experience,  tho1  you  see  to  what  it's  brought  me, 
I'm  a  "  sadder,  yet  a  wiser  man,"  although  I'm  "  up  a  U-ct? 
Choeus: — I'd  friends,  &c 


6S 

THE   SLIGO   MUSKETEERS. 

Words  and  Music  by  Harry  Bennett. 
Oh,  let  ye  stand  from  under  now  and  open  wide  your  ears, 
While  we  relate  the  story  of  the  Slij^o  Musketeers  ; 
Sure,  whin  we  landed  on  this  soil  out  West  they  made  us  go, 
And  we  worked  at  canaling  on  the  Oh — ho — ho; 
But  whin  the  war  it  did  break  out  it  took  our  job  away, 
We  organized  a  company  and  wint  into  the  fray ; 
We  fought  the  ragged  rebels,  boys,  for  many  a  weary  day, 
But  they  couldn't  bate  the  Sligo  Musketeers, 
cnonus. 
With  our  ha,  ha,  ha,  ha,  hay  foot  straw,  we  marched  across 

the  plain, 
And  many's  the  time  we  thought  we'd  never  see  our  homes 

again  ; 
The  rebels  fought  like  divils,  but  their  fighting  was  in  vain, 
For  they  couldn't  bate  the  Sligo  Musketeers. 

We  fought  wid  Banks  and  B\irnside,  and  wid  Grant  we  took  a 

hack, 
But  the  best  of  all,  tho'  he  was  small,  was  gallant  little  Mac; 
Faith,  if  they'd  let  him  have  his  way,  he'd  quickly  drive  them 
back, 
If  assisted  by  the  Sligo  Musketeers  ; 
Sure  he  knew  how  to  engineer  and  likewise  to  command — 
No  matter  what  your  station  was  he'd  take  you  by  the  hand  ; 
He  looked  so  noble  on  his  horse  when  he  was  in  command 
Of  us  fighting  boys,  the  Sligo  Musketeers. 

With  our  ha,  ha,  etc. 

But  now  our  lave  of  absence,  boys,  is  very  nearly  spint, 
We'd  ax  ye  all  to  have  a  smile,  but  we're  without  a  cint ; 
On  Erie  shares  and  all  such  snares  our  money  it  is  lent — 

It  completely  broke  the  Sligo  Musketeers  ; 
We'll    say,  "Good  evening,  one  and  ail,"  your  pardon,  too,  we 

crave ; 
We  did  our  duty  manfully  this  country  for  to  save ; 
May  the  shamrock  and  the  stars  aud  stripes  in  triumph  ever 
wave 
O'er  the  fortunes  of  the  Sligo,  Musketeers. 

Willi  our  ha,  ha,  etc. 


39 
BEATTTIFUIi    BOY. 

Air—"  Darling  Ould  Stick. 


It  was  one  winter's  day,  about  six  in  the  morn, 

When  a  little  innocent  creature  was  born ; 

There  was  doctor  and  nurse,  and  a  great  many 

But  none  of  them  saw  such  a  baby  before. 
They  all  swore  I  was  like  my  papa, 
"  Yes.  and  see,  there's  the  uose  of  his  mamma 
"With  a  few  alteratious,  oh.  la,  1*, 
.  We'll  make  him  a  beautiful  boy." 

"  To  make  him  a  beauty,"  cried  out  Mrs.  Sneer, 

"  We'll  be  troubled  unless  the  child  has  a  sweet  leer." 

Then  to  give  me  this  leer  Mrs.  Glazier  arose, 

And  a  piece  of  red  patty  stuck  bang  on  my  nose. 

This  made  me  to  wink  and  to  blink  so, 

The  ladies  knew  not  what  to  think,  oh, 

And  at  last  it  turned  into  a  squint,  oh, 
Which  made  me  a  beautiful  boy. 

To  niaKe  me  accomplished,  I  wanted  one  thing, 

My  mouth  was  too  small  for  the/dear  child  to  sing, 

Then  to  stretch  it  and  spread  it  they  all  of  them  tried, 

Till  they  stretched  my  sweet  mouth  nearly  half  a  yard  wida 

Crying  :  "  Pull  away  now,  Mrs.  Eider, 

It  must  be  a  little  bit  wider.'" 

My  dear  month  they  split  pretty  high,  sir, 
All  to  make  me  a'beautiful  boy, 

Now,  being  complete,  I  was  next  sent  to  school, 
And  to  show  off  my  make,  was  stuck  on  a'high  stool, 
When  the  children  went  home,  they  cried  out  with  surprise: 
*  We  have  a  new  boy  at  school  with  such  beautiful  eyes} 

He  can  look  any  way  so  handy, 

Such  a  mouth  he  has  got  to  sack  candy  ! 

And  his  legs  are  so  preciously  bandy, 
They  call  him  the  beautiful  boy." 

T'other  day  I  was  asked  in  the  city  to  dine. 
The  ladies,  in  raptures,  all  thought  me  divine; 
And  all,  when  observing  my  elegant  grace, 
Neglected  their  dinner  to  look  at  my  face. 

They  cried  :  "  I  shall  faint  with  surprise  1 

No  gas-lights  can  equal  his  eyes, 

And  such  a  mouth  for  mince-pies! 
Law !  ain't  he  a  beautiful  boy?" 

Now.  ladies,  beware  of  Love's  powerful  darts, 

For  fearful  I  am  1  shall  steal  an  your  hearts, 

And  then,  you  dear,  sweet  little  creatures,  you'll  sigh, 

And  doat  on  my  charms  till  you  languish  and  die. 

For,  you  know,  I  cau't  marry  you  all, 

Yet,  believe  me,  whenever  you  call, 

My  endeavors  will  be  to  please  all, 
Although  such  a  beautiful  boy. 


40 

A  TERRIBLE  EXAMPLE. 

Words  and  Music  by  Joseph  P.  Sb.ei.ly. 

The  Music  of  this  song  is  published  by  E.  H.  Habdino,  220  Bo-oraw,  *Jew 
York.     Price  10  cents. 

Copyright,  1875,  by  E.  H  HabcinG. 

McGee  was  a  jolly  old  Gobbler, 

He  came  from  the  divil  knows  where  ; 
Of  whiskey,  he  was  a  great  gobbler, 

And  delighted  to  go  on  a  "  tare." 
He  was  often  persuaded  to  alter 

His  habits,  and  live  like  a  man  ; 
But  whenever  he  tried,  he  would  falter. 

And  go  back  to  his  bottle  and  can. 


McGee  was  a  terrible  man, 

He  was  always  so  flighty  and  frisky  ; 

He  tried  to  reform,  but  he  couldn't  ke«p  warm,- 
Sure,  he'd  die  if  he  hadn't  his  whiskey. 

His  wife  was  a  dacent  ould  woman, 

And  scolded  froravmornin'  till  night ; 
She  told  him  he  must  be  inhuman 

To  be  keeping  them  in  such  a  plight. 
He  would  listen  in  scorn  and  derision, 

And  drink  just  as  much  as  before  ; 
Till  at  length  she  gave  out  her  decision 

To  begin  on  a  temperance  war. 

McGe*  t«s.  etc 

She  went  to  a  temperance  preacher 

And  stated  the  case  of  McGee  ; 
He  promised  to  help  the  poor  creature — 

"  I'll  go  over  next  mornin',"  says  he. 
When  he  came,  the  old  cobbler  was  roaring 

A  song,  with  his  glass  in  his  hand  ; 
Twas  the  glass  he  was  fond  of  adoring, 

And  he  seemed  hardly  able  to  stand  ! 

McGee  was,  etc. 

"  Dear  Misther  McGee,"  said  his  rev'reuoe, 

"  I  hope  you  will  alter  your  ways  ; 
I've  come  now  to  give  you  deliverance 

From  the  evil  that's  blighting  your  days  !" 
"  'Pon  me  sowl !"  says  McGee,  "  I  am  ready, 

I'll  stop  with  the  greatest  of  cheer  ; 
But  I  fear  I  can  never  be  steady 

While  a  dhrop  of  good  whiskey  is  near." 

McGee  was,  etc. 

m 


41 

A  TERRIBLE  EXAMPLE.— Concluded. 

"  Fear  not,"  said  the  man  of  cold-water, 

"  You'll  show  us  how  good  ycmxian  be  ; 
The  demon  of  drink  we  will  slaughter, 

And  we'll  honor  the  name  of  McGee." 
Then  he  promised  to  keep  at  a  distance 

All  drinks  of  whatever  degree  ; 
"  Noble  man,  you  shall  have  our  assistance — 

In  a  week  the  result  we  will  see." 

McGee  was,  etc. 

Spoken.- — The  reverend  gentleman,  after  some  further  per- 
suasions, took  his  departure,  and  Mr.  McGee  at  once  became  a 
strict  disciple  of  temperance.  The  sudden  change  of  life  had  a 
severe  effect  upon  him  ;  he  lost  all  his  exuberant  spirits,  be- 
ing entirely  under  the  control  of  his  wife  and  the  temperance 
advocates,  who  filled  his  mind  every  day  with  solemn  lectures, 
and  worked  him  into  such  a  queer  state — half  comfort,  half  de- 
spair— that  he  would  often  say  to  himself,  "Begob,  I'm  not 
meself  a*,  all  !"  At  last  they  induced  him  to  state  in  a  public 
meeting  the  various  benefits  he  had  derived  from  his  adherence 
to  the  pledge — the  comfort,  the  happiness,  the  great  joy  and 
peace  of  mind  he  had  experienced  during  his  short  season  of 
sobriety  He  attended  the  meeting,  and  with  a  ver}r  grave 
countenance,  related  his  experience  as  follows  : 

RECITATION. 

Good  people,  1  stand  here  before  you  to-night, 
Me  mouth  very  dhry,  and  me  head  very  light  ; 
It's  three  weeks  to-day  since  I  joined  in  the  ranks 
Of  the  Wather  Brigade,  I  left  off  me  ould  pranks! 
And  ever  since  then,  sure,  me  life  has  been  blessed 
With  a  great  many  comforts,  and  nights  of  good  rest. 
I  paid  all  me  debts,  and  I  bought  a  new  gown 
For  the  wife  of  me  bosom — a  beautiful  brown — 
I  took  from  the  pawn  shop  me  foin  Sunday  coat, 
"Which  cost  me  last  winter  a  ten  dollar  note, 
And  put  a  new  sole  on  the  ould  woman's  shoes — 
A  moighty  big  job,  for  she  wears  "  twinty-two's  I" 
I  made  a  new  sty  for  the  fine  little  pigs, 
And  fixed  up  the  garden  with  bushes  and  twigs  ; 
1  wint  to  a  lawyer  and  made  out  my  will, 
My  duty  to  all  I  was  bound  to  fulfill. 
And  yesterday  mornin'  (don't  think  that  I'm  scoffin'), 
I  bought  for  me  body  an  illigant  coffin  ! 
For  1  know  if  my  whiskey  is  taken  from  me, 
You'll  very  soon  make  a  dead  man  of  McGee. 

•  (2) 


42 

BOSTON  BEANS. 

As  sung  by  Ed.  Fbench^^  Sheridan,  Mace  &  Day's  Grand  Combina- 
tion. 

Ahl— "  Spring,  Gentle  Spring." 

Beans,  beans,  Boston  baked  beans, 

Served  up  red-hot  on  a  Sunday  morn  ; 

Beans,  beans,  Boston  baked  beans, 

Is  a  fit  dish  for  a  queen,  sure  as  you'.re  born  j 

Whenever  you  come  to  Boston  town, 

Have  some  one  to  show  you  round ; 

Smoking  red-hot  upon  the  plates — 

Yes,  how  I  love  those  Yankee  dates  ; 

You  may  talk  about  your  good  clam  chowder, 

Talk  about  your  whiskey  sour — 

CHORUS. 

Give  me  beans,  beans,  Boston  baked  beans, 
Served  up  red-hot  on  a  Sunday  morn ; 

Coffee,  sugar,  bread,  and  cream — 
It's  a  fit  dish  for  a  queen,  sure  as  you're  born. 


Cheese,  cheese,  Limburger  cheese, 

Floating  so  gayly  and  sweet  in  the  breeze ;  \ 

Cheese,  cheese,  Limburger  cheese —  , 

Bring  me  a  dish  of  sweet  Limburger  cheese ;  ^ 

At  Miller's  saloon  I  take  my  ease, 

And  revel  on  lager  and  Limburger  cheese  •, 

There  is  good,  and  for  all  of  that, 

For  it  gives  you  such  a  sweet  breath ; 

Talk  of  love  in  Cupid's  hours — 

Talk  of  a  balm  of  a  thousand  flowers — 

CHORUS. 

Cheese,  cheese,  Limburger  cheese, 
Floating  so  gayly  and  sweet  in  the  breeze ; 
Cheese,  cheese,  Limburger  cheese — 
Bring  me  a  dish  of  sweet  LimburgeY  cheese. 


43 


THE   BARD   OF  ARMAGH. 

A*  sung  by  Ned  Harrioan. 
0  !  list  to  the  lay  of  a  poor  Irish  harper, 

And  scorn  not  the  strains  of  his  old  withered  hands, 
But,  remember  those  fingers,  they  once  could  move  sharper, 

In  raising  the  merry  strains  to  his  dear  native  land, 
It  was  long  before  the  shamrock,  dear  isle,  lovely  emblem, 

Was  crushed  in  its  beauty,  by  the  Saxon's  lion  paw, 
And  all  the  pretty  colleens  around  me  would  gather 

Call  me  their  bold  Phelim  Brady,  the  Bard  of  Armagh. 

How  I  love  to  muse  on  the  days  of  my  boyhood, 

Though  four  score  and  three  years  have  flew  by  them, 
It's  king's  sweet  reflection  that  every  young  joy, 

For  the  merry-hearted  boys  make  the  best  of  old  men. 
At  a  fair,  or  a  wake  I  could  twist  my  shillelah, 

And  trip  through  a  dance  wid  my  brogues  tied  with  straw, 
There  all  the  pretty  maidens  around  me  would  gather, 

Call  me  their  bold  Phelim  Brady,  the  Bard  of  Armagh. 

In  truth  I  have  wandered  this  wide  world  all  over, 

Yet  Ireland's  my  home  and  a  dwelling  for  me, 
And  oh,  let  the  turf  that  my  old  bones  shall  cover, 

Be  cut  from  the  land  that  is  trod  by  the  free  ; 
And  when  serjeant  death  in  his  cold  arms  doth  embrace. 

And  lull  me  to  sleep  with  old  Erin-go- bragh, 
By  the  side  of  my  Kathleen,  my  dear  pride,  oh  placa  m, 

Then  forget  Phelim  Brady,  the  Bard  ©f  Armagk. 


44 


THE  BROTH  OP  A  BOY  IS  PADDY. 

"Written  and  arranged  by  Bi  lly  Ashcroft. 
Air.— "  The  Boys  of  Kilkenny." 

On,  there's  not  in  ould  Ireland  a  boy  half  so  free  . 

As  bould  Paddy  Flynn — he  me  sowl,  and  that's  me  ; 
At  breaking  the  hearts  of  the  girls  I  am  A  1, 

And  at  breaking  the  heads  of  the  boys,  beat  by  none* 
At  breaking  the  skulls  of  the  boys,  banged  by  none, 

"  Aib.— Sally,  come  up," 

At  making  lore,  sir,  Pat's  the  boy  ; 

'the  ladies'  hearts  can't  I  decoy  7 
Sure  don't  they  gambol,  kiss,  and  toy, 

And  galivant  with  Paddy ; 
And  then  so  shy  I  wink  my  eye, 

Awhile  the  darlint  creatures,  ay. 

Aib.— "  Be  ai3y,  ean't  you,  Paddy  V 

Paddy  can  stuff  the  blarney  down, 
Paddy  can  grief  in  whiskey  drown, 

And  crack  a  bottle,  joke,  or  crown, 
Such  a  broth  of  a  boy  is  Paddy. 

Air.— "  Lowback  Car." 

Last  night  I  went  a  courting, 

And  met  with  a  mishap  ; 
At  Judy  Riley's  windy 

I  went  to  give  a  rap  : 
But  bad  luck  to  the  cistern 

Poor  Paddy  stood  upon, 
(1) 


45 

THE  BBOTH  OF  A  BOY  IS  PADDY.— Continued. 


'Twas  like  the  tricks  of  politics — 
Not  to  be  depended  on, 

For  no  sooner  had  I  put 
The  sowl  of  me  iligant  foot 

On  the  lid,  than  it  slipped, 
And  whish  ! — in  I  was  dipped 

Souse  head  over  heels  in  the  butt. 


Air.—"  St.  Patrick's  Day." 

Faith,  so  many  I've  admired,  I'm  getting  tired 

Of  courting  the  smart  little  lasses  at  all ; 
I've  tipped  'em  the  blarney,  but  spite  of  me  blarney 

They've  bid  Paddy  (bad  luck  !)  good  morning  ! 
I've  kilt  all  my  rivals  again  anc).  again, 

And  nine  times  for  love  it's  meself  that's  been  slain  1 
Wid  grief  I  am  laden,  for  fear  an  ould  maiden 

I'll  die  without  wedlock  adorning. 


Air.—"  The  Ould  Bog  Hole." 

So  now,  who'll  marry  a  nate  Irishman  ? 

For  a  lady  I'll  do  all  iver  I  can ; 
I'm  not  very  rich,  but  I'm  born  to  good  luck, 

I've  a  cow  just  died  and  a  dropsical  duck ; 
I'm  expecting  a  fortune,  and  sure  it  won't  fail 

To  come — when  the  income  tax  they  repale. 
Shall  I  spake  to  the  praist  to  make  it  all  right, 

And  order  for  music  a  piany  fortnight  ? 
Who'll  wed  a  boy  from  the  Emerald  Isle  ? 

Who'll  on  the  suit  of  a  bold  Paddy  smile  1 
Who'll  send  a  letter  me  grief  to  beguile  1 

To  Pat  Number  One-ty-one  Lower  Turnstile. 

Who'll  wed  a  boy,  etc. 
(2) 


AN  ILIGANT  WAKE. 

Air.—"  ttarling  Ould  Stick/' 
Sung  by  Billy  Ashcroft. 

In  Dublin,  that  city  of  riches  and  fame, 

A  shoemaker  died,  Jerry  Flynn  was  his  name, 

The  neighbors  all  grieved,  rich  and  poor,  high  and  low, 

And  to  the  wake  of  poor  Jerry  resolved  for  to  go. 

Spoken. — Poor  Jerry!  Though  he  often  half-so\ed  shoes,  he 
was  a  whole-souled  man  himself,  and  raany's  the  job  he  done  for 
nothing,  He  mended  Tim  Reilly's  brogans,  and  pegged  Mrs. 
M'Carthy,  and  gave  her  a  new  patch  on  her  upper,  an'  all  for 
sixpence;  so  no  wondher  they  all  came  to  his  wake.  Tim 
Donohoe  wint  for  a  coach  for  the  ladies  ;  he  stuffed  the  fine  soft 
straw  feather  bed  in  the  bottom  of  Con  Casey's  wheelbarrow ; 
he  smoothed  down  the  long  feathers  for  fear  any  of  them  might 
stick  in  the  ladies,  and  hurt  their — feelings,  as  he  handed  them 
in. 

CHORUS. 

Mrs.  Casey  and  Mrs.  O'Blaney, 
Kate  Nolan  and  Widow  Delaney, 
An  1  the  iligant  Jtifdy  M'Shaney, 
To  go  to  the  beautiful  wake. 

All  dressed  out  so  neat  in  their  best  Sunday  clothes, 
Wid  Doherty  showing  his  jolly  red  nose, 
And  another  big  party  about  twenty  score, 
All  met  them  a  knocking  at  Jerry  Fly  mi's  door. 

Spoken. — "  Mis.  Flynn  !  Mrs.  Flynn  i  why  the  blazes  don't 
you  open  the  door  1  Here's  the  quality  coming  to  Jerry's  wake. 
Stick  him  up  slantinclickler  in  the  bed  ;  clap,  a  clane  pipe  in  his 
mouth  and  put  a  nightcap  on  him,  that  he  may  look  nate  and 
dacint.  Mistress  Biddy,  will  you  shake  some  clane  straw  in  the 
corner  for  the  company  to  sit  down  on?  There  yees  are  all  now 
as  snug  as  a  bug  in  a  rug.  Come,  now,  Darby  Reilly,  while 
Nelly's  mixing  the  punch,  will  you  just  tip  us  a  bit  of  a  son«  ?" 
"  Faix  I  will,  mam  ;  I'll  give  you  a  verse  from  the  Opery  of  Go 
to  the  Divil  and  shake  yourself."  "Silence!  Pat  Doyle,  I'll  run 
a  sod  of  turf  in  your  gob  if  you  don't  hould  your  tongue.  Darby 
Reilly  is  going  to  sing  ;  silence." 

(Sings  in  a  drawling  tone.) 

Air. — "  Raging  Canawl." 

Oh,  once  I  never  thought  I'd  be 

In  this  dejected  state, 
A  poor,  forlorn  effigy 

Bound  down  by  hardship's  fate. 

(1) 


47 
AN  ILIGAJMT  WAKE.— Continued. 

The  birds  that  flatter  on  yon  tree, 

With  terror  strike  my  heart ; 
Aich  star  I  see  alarums  me — 

Oh,  why  did  I  des-art '{ 

S?«ken< — "  Oh,  wow,  ow  !  I  can't  bear  to  sing  any  more,  it's 
too  distressing  for  my  delicate  nerves.    Missus  M'Nulty,  will  ye 
thry  a  song,  mam?"  "  Thoth  I  will,  Darby.    Here  goes." 
(J/>s.  IL^Nulty  sings.) 

Och  !   one  evening  for  dervarsion's  sake 

As  I  walked  out  alone, 
I  heard  a  fay  male  lady  bright 

Making  her  piteous  moan. 
She  wrung  her  bands  and  tore  her  hair, 

And  to  herself  did  cry, 
Aarrah,  Johnny  dear,  don't  murther  me, 

For  if  you  do  I'll  die. 

Sfoxen. — Here's  Nelly  wid  the  -punch,  now  hand  it  round  to 

Mrs.  ]\rCarthy  and  Mrs.  0  Blaney, 
Kate  Nolan  and  Widow  Delaney, 
And  the  beautiful  Judy  M'Shaney, 
And  all  at  the  iligant  wake. 

Now  the  whiskey  went  round  till  they  couldn't  agree, 
Who  was  of  the  best  rank  or  the  best  family  ; 
They  from  words  came  to  blows,  and  their  fists  didn't  spare, 
And  by  handfuls  they  pulled  out  each  other's  hair. 

Spoken. — Oh,  ladies!  ladies  !  aren't  you  forshamed  av  your- 
selves, to  behave  like  a  set  of  jackasses  !  Oh  Judy,  Judy  !  Judy! 
Divil  roast  me  but  they've  got  Jerry  in  amongst  them  ;  they'll 
bate  the  life  out  of  the  corpse.  Here,  catch  hoult  of  his  toe  and 
pull  him  out  of  the  scrimmage.  Haul  away,  here.  We've  got 
him  out.  Oh,  bad  luck  to  me,  but  they've  give  h>m  a  black 
eye.  The  brutes!  to  murther  a  poor  dead  man  that  way! 
Oh,  he'll  never  set  over  it  ;  give  me  the  broomstick,  tih  I  bate 
them  ail  out,  every  one  of  them  not  excepting 

Mrs.  Casey  and  Mis.  O'Blaney, 
Kate  Nolan  and  Widow  Delaney, 
And  the  red-headed  Judy  M'Shanef, 
And  all  at  the  iligant  wake. 

(2) 


48 


A    VIRGIN    ONLY    19    YEARS    OLD. 

By  Harry  Rickards. 


As 


was       out 


walk  -  in£        one 


night    near      the  Strand.        I 


met      a        fair 


3 

dam  -  sel        all  hooped  up       so      grand,     She     had 


feath-ers     and        fi   -    ne  -    ry,  and 


Sym. 

— <r 
i 


feath-ers     and        fi   -    ne  -    ry, 


I  v      v       .,    . 

jew  -  els  and        gold, . .     And      she       said       she 


vir  -  gin — 


yes, 


5E 

vir   -   gin, 


H^^iiil^fipi 


nine   >  teen    years         old  I 
(1) 


49 
A  VIRGIN,   ONLY    19    YEARS    OLD.    [Concluded.] 

Her  fingers  were  taper'd,  her  neck  like  the  swan, 
Her  nose  was  a  turn-up,  and  her  voice  not  too  strong ; 
In  three  weeks  we  were  married,  and  the  wedding  bells  told 
That  I'd  married  a  virgin — yes,  a  virgin,  only  19  years  old! 

The  wedding-party  broke  up,  and  we  retired  to  rest, 
But  my  hair  stood  right  up  when  my  bride  she  undress'd ; 
For  a  cartload  of  padding  my  young  bride  did  unfold, 
A  thing  rather  peculiar,  very  peculiar,  for  19  years  old  ! 

First,  she  took  off  her  right  foot,  about  a  foot  wide, 
Then  she  unscrewed  her  left  ear  and  laid  it  aside, 
Then  she  pull'd  out  her  right  eye,  on  the  carpet  it  roll'd; 
Thinks  I,  here's  a  virgin — what  a  virgin,  only  19  years  old  I 


Next  she  unscrewed  her  right  leg  as  far  as  the  knee, 

Then  pull'd  off  her  fingers,  I  counted  just  three; 

Then  on  her  left  shoulder  a  large  lump  I  did  behold, 

So  I  said,  there's  a  virgin — yes,  a  virgin,  only  19  years  old ! 


"When  she  wiped  off  her  eyebrows  I  thought  I  should  faint, 
And  scraped  from  her  thin  cheeks  a  cartload  of  paint ; 
When  she  pull'd  off  her  black  wig  then  her  bald  pate  soon  twid 
That  she  was  an  old  virgin,  an  old  virgin,  more  than  19  years  oid  1 

When  she  pull'd  out  her  false  teeth,  I  jumped  up  in  terror, 
For  her  nose  and  her  chin  very  near  stuck  together, 
From  the  chamber  I  stepp'd  it,  never  more  to  behold 
This  virgin  not  nineteen, — no,  not  nineteen,  but  99  years  old  I 

Now,  young  men,  take  warning,  e'er  to  chui-ch  you  go, 

Be  sure  your  wife's  perfect  from  the  top  to  the  toe, 

Or  you'll  pay  for  your  folly,  and  like  me  be  sold 

By  some  patch' d-up  old  virgin,  cruel  old  virgin,'bout  99  years  old 


(2) 


DIGGING  FOR  GOULD. 

Darby  Kelly  below  in  Killkenny  did  live, 

A  sketch  of  whose  character  I'm  going  to  give; 

He  was  thought  by  the  people  a  green  polished  rogue, 

He  could  wastle  the  whiskey,  or  wastle  the  old  brogue; 

All  kinds  of  diseases  with  herbs  he  could  cure, 

He'd  interpret  your  dreams  to  be  certain  and  sure, 

By  the  boys  of  the  village  he  often  was  fool'd  ; 

]For  aslape  or  awake,  he  was  dreaming  of  gould. 

Fol  de  dol,  <fec. 

He  had  a  fine  open  house,  "but  the  winders  were  broke, 
The  gables  were  down  to  let  out  the  smoke ; 
Some  beautiful  pigs,  through  the  wide  world  to  range, 
Though  they  were  thin,  they  were  thick  with  the  mange, 
He  was  so  neglectful  of  domestic  affairs, 
The  vats  eat  the  bottoms  all  out  of  the  chairs, 
And  the  wife  by  the  husband  was  so  overruled, 
When  she  asked  him  for  ci/ppers.  he  was  talking  of  gould. 

Fol  de  dol,  <fec. 

The  house  thus  neglecten,  sure  nothing  went  right ; 
When  a  youth  of  the  village  came  to  him,  one  night, 
A  nice  boy  he  was,  his  name  was  Dan  Mac, 
And  ready  to  fly  with  the  duds  on  his  back  ; 
All  the  clothes  that  he  had  wasn't  enough 
To  make  him  a  bolster  to  stick  on  a  crutch, 
And  his  juvenile  days  in  a  lime-kiln  were  schooled, 
But  he  used  to  cod  Darby  about  finding  gould. 

Fol  de  doL  (fee. 

Says  Dan;  "Ere  last  Mglit  I  had  a  beautiful  dream  ; 
Bit  bad  luck  to  the  doubt !  last  night  I'd  the  same ; 
And  to-day,  as  I  dozed,  after  slacking  some  lime, 
I  dreamt  it  again  for  the  third  and  last  time. 
Och,  murder !  says  Darby,  come  tell  us  your  dream, 
Same  time  his  two  eyes  like  rockets  did  gleam, 
Says  Dan :  I  dreamt  at  the  castle  Kilcool 
I  found  a  jar  that  ^as  nvafvjtnecA  ftifi  of  gould. 

Fol  dr  lol,  &Co 


DIGGING  FOR  GOULD.— [concluded.^ 

Poor  Darby  a  big  mouth  opened  like  a  dead  Haicke, 
Sa}Ting :  You'll  be  a  hero,  just  like  your  name-sake ; 
You'll  ride  in  }*our  coach,  you  fortunate  elf, 
While  I  may  be  in  one,  going  down  to  the  hulks. 
No  matter,  said  Darb}T,  we  must  emigrate, 
So,  come  down  at  micViSght,  and  don't  be  too  late; 
Bring  some  boys  whose  courage  won't  easy  be  cooled, 
And  we'll  dig  till  daylight  to  find  all  the  gould. 

Fol  de  dol,  &c. 

They  arrived  at  zne  castle,  at  about  one  o'clock, 
Where  Dan  dreamt  he  found  all  the  gold  in  a  crock, 
They  all  set  to  work  with  picks,  shovels  and  spades. 
And  a  hole,  that  would  swallow  a  house,  soon  was  madf 
Says  Darby:  Bad  luck  to  the  curse  we  must  give. 
Or  we'll  be  beggars  as  long  as  we  live  ! 
Says  Dan :  My  the  devil  on  my  back  be  stooled, 
For,  I  have  bursted   my  breaches  in  digging  for  gould ! 

Fol  de  dol,  <fcc. 

The  prayers  availed  notlnng,  the  crock  was  soon  found, 
Tim  Rooney  he  lifted  it  over  the  ground  ; 
With  joy  Darby  leaped  on  the  back  of  Ned  Fail. 
Like  a  lish  from  the  stream  with  a  hook  in  his  tail, 
Says  Darby  :  My  wife  won't  abuse  me  to-night, 
When  I  take  home  the  shiners  so  yellow  and  bright ! 
I'll  buy  house  and  land  about  Killcool. 
And  we'll  all  bless  the  night  we  went  digging  for  gould) 

Fol  de  dol,  &c- 

The  crocls  was  men  placed  on  Darby's  own  back, 

To  carry  home  and  each  man  have  his  whack, 

They  arrived  at  the  door  with  the  gould  to  be  sacked, 

When  Mac  with  a  spade  knocked  the  crock  into  smash 

Poor  Dai'by,  near  smothered,  ran  in  with  affright ; 

His  wife  jumps  up  to  get  him  a  light: 

When  she  heard  Darby  mourning,  her  passion  was  cooled, 

She  knew  by  the  smell  he  was  covered  with  gould ! 

Fol  do  dol,  &c. 


DEAR  OULD  SOBo 

It  was  down  in  Queenstown  harbor, 

The  morning  I  set  sail, 
My  mammy  cried  to  me,  "■  Oh,  John  j 

Your  heart  will  never  fail  ; 
You're  leaving  poor  old  Ireland," 

My  mother  said  to  me  ; 
"  Arrah,  don't  forget  the  dear  ould  sod 

Across  the  deep  blue  sea." 


The  boys  and  girls  all  'round  me 

Did  shed  the  parting  tear  ; 
My  hungry  eyes  were  fastened  on 

The  form  to  me  so  dear  ; 
She  waved  he^r  poor  old  withered  hand, 

And  cried  out,  "  John  machree, 
Arrah,  don't  forget  the  dear  ould  sod 

When  you  cross  the  deep  blue  sea." 


The  very  winds  did  sob  and  moan, 

As  we  put  out  to  sea", 
A  sad  farewell  to  Ireland,  growing, 

Dim  upon  our  lee  ; 
But  through  my  brain  kept  ringing  still 

Her  parting  words  to  me — 
"Arrah,  don't  forget  the  dear  ould  sod 

When  you  cross  the  deep  blue  sea." 


When  I  landed  in  New  York 

I  felt  both  strange  and  queer  ; 
*Twas  soon  I  had  the  money  earned 

To  bring  the  old  mother  here, 
And  as*  she  stepped  upon  the  dock 

She  cried,  "Grab  gra,  machree, 
You  didn't  forget  the  dear  ould  sod 

When  you  cross'd  the  deep  blue  sea. 


The  old  dark  days  have  passed  and  gone, 

Their  grip  no  more  we'll  feel ; 
There's  bread  for  every  man  who'll  put 

His  shoulder  to  the  wheel ; 
But  while  we're  living  here  beneath 

The  banner  of  the  free, 
We'll  ne'er  forget  the  dear  old  sod 

Across  the  deep  blue  sea. 


53 

DERMOT'S   FAREWELL. 
Answer  to    You'll  soon  forget  Kathleen.' 

I  ean  ne'er  forget  thee,  Kathleen. 

Thou  wilt  still  he  dear  to  me, 
My  foot  may  rove  a  foreign  land, 

My  heartwill  dwell  with  thee. 
Those  happy  hours  with  thee  I  pa»s'd 

I  never  ean  forget, 
And  though  we're  doomed  hy  fate  to  p*rt, 

I  leave  thee  with  regret. 
Then  dry  thy  tears,  my  Kathleen, 

O        more  upon  me  smile, 
Am*      1  soon  return  to  thee,  love, 

And  the  sunny  Emerald  Isle. 

Strange  faces  cannot  sever 

Our  thoughts  from  those  we  love. 
Ah  !  vain  'tiathy  endeavor, 

True  hearts  they  cannot  move; 
Ahove  them  all,  a  brighter  spell, 

Is  o'er  our  native  home. 
A  charm  that  binds  the  heart  there  still, 

Where'er  the  foot  may  roam. 
Then  weep  no  more,  my  Kathleen, 

Once  again  upon  me  smile, 
And  I'll  soon  return  to  thee,  love, 

And  the  sunny  Emerald  Isle. 

TERRY  MALONE. 

One  evening  from  market  returning, 
Just  thinking  of  what  I'll  not  name; 
May-be  some  of  ye  guess,  ah  ?  now  don't  y©$ 
For  'tis  few  have  not  thought  of  the  same. 

But  my  heart  is  as  open  aa  sunshine, 
A  secret  lies  heavy  as  stone  ; 
So  I'll  even  confess,  without  blushing, 
I  was  thinking  of  Terry  Malono. 

If  you  spake  of  some  one  I'll  not  mention. 
It  is  certain,  they  say,  he'll  appear, 
And  so  of  the  lad  I  was  thinking, 
By  the  bosheen  I  saw  him  draw  near. 

I  was  pleased  yet  sorry  to  see  him, 
And  he  asked  ine  to  meet  him  alone ; 
For  I  very  well  knew  what  he  wanted. 
So  avoided  poor  Terry  Malone. 

Coming  home  the  next  ev'ning  quite  lonely. 
All  at  once  who  d'ye  think  I  did  spy : 
But  Terry  himself  in  a  flurry, 
And  oh  !  suoh  a  beam  in  his  eye! 

Where's  the  use  to  descend  to  patrticlare, 
Bnough  if  the  end  be  made  known— 
That  same  nu;ht,  by  the  moon,  I  cos 
To  become  Mistress  Terry  Malone. 


54 

CASEY'S  WHISKEY. 

Words  and  Music  by  Joseph  P.  Skeli/t. 

The  Music  of  this  song  13  published  by  E  H.  Harding,  229  Bowery,  New 
York.     Price  10  cents. 

Copyright,  1875,  by  E.  H.  Harding. 

Meselp  and  Barney  Casey  wint  to  have  a  little  spree, 

He  had  a  bottle  for  himself,  and  another  one  for  me  ; 

We  thravell'd  round  the  city  till  our  heads  and  feet- were  sore,  ' 

And  ev'ry  dhrink  it  was  so  nice,  it  made  us  wish  for  more. 

CHORDS. 

Bad  luck  to  Casey's  whiskey,  it  made  us  both  so  frisky, 
We  dhrank  our  bottles  empty,  and  at  last  we  couldn't  stand  ; 
Along  the  streets  we  rambled,  we  staggered  and  we  scrambled, 
And  sang  a  song,  the  whole  night  long,  of  gay  ould  Paddy's 
land. 

We  met  a  big  policeman,  and  he  looked  at  us,  says  he, 

"  What  brings  you  out  so  late  as  this  2"  says  I,  "  the  counthry's 

free ;" 
11  Shut  up,"  says  Casey,  "  come  along  !"  "  0,  divil  a  bit,"  says  I, 
"  I'll  sthrike  him  if  he  says  a jyord,  the  durty  mane  ould  spy." 

Spokex  — And  if  I  ever  did  sthrike  him  he  might  well  say — 

Bad  luck  to,  etc. 

He  turned  around  and  left  us — sure  the  man  was  not  to  blame, 
I  called  him  back,  and  axed  him  if  he'd  plase  to  tell  his  name  ; 
"  Of  coorse,"    says  he,   "  it's  Flauigan,   I'm  from   the  county 

Clare." 
"  Hurroo!"  says  I,  "  shake  hands,  me  b'y,  our  whiskey  you  must 

share  1" 

Bad  luck  to,  etc. 

Out  kem  the  empty  bottle,  and  I  put  it  in  his  paw, 

"  Look  out,"  say  he.  "  whin  on  me  post,  a  dhrink's  against  the 

law." 
He  put  the  bottle  to  his  mouth,  but  divil  a  dhrop  was  there, 
And  while  we  laughed  at  Flauigan,  sure  he  began  to  swear  ! 

Bad  luck  to,  etc. 

He  raised  his  club  above  his  head,  and  vow'd  he'd  take  us  in 
For  dhrinking  on  the  highway,  "  0,"  says  Casey,  "  that's  to© 

thin !" 
He  dhragged  poor  Casey  off  to  jail,  and  thried  to  take  mc  too, 
But  to  keep  a  hoult  on  Casey  was  as  much  as  he  could  do. 

Spoken. — I  pitied  poor  Casey  and  I   suppose  he  pitied  noe. 
But  it  was  all  his  own  (ioings.     The  two  bottles  fixed  him. 

Sad  lack  to,  eta. 


55 
THE  CHAP  IN  NUMBER  NINE. 

By  J.  B  MuaPHT.  Sung  by  Johnny  Wild. 

Folks  wonder  why  I  look  so  glum  and  seldom  show  my  face, 
As  once  I  did,  a  year  ago,  in  every  public  place  ; 
But  they  don't  know  how  my  poor  heart  was  shivered  up  so  fine, 
By  him  that  lives  across  the  street — the  chap  in  No.  9. 

CHORUS. 

My  heart  is  broke — I  nearly  choke — when  thinking  of  the  time, 
That  Sarah  Glass — run  off,  alas — with  the  chap  in  No.  9. 

I'll  tell  you  simply  how  it  was  and  how  it  came  to  pass  : 
I  loved  a  chambermaid  next  door,  her  name  was  Sarah  Glass  ; 
I  thought  her  soul  a  mirror  pure— reflecting  truth  to  mine, 
Tho'  oft  she  flashed  a  smile  upon  the  chap  in  No.  9. 

My  heart  is  broke,  etc. 

I  took  Miss  Glass  to  operas,  balls,  and  every  brilliant  place, 
And  doated  on  her  crystal  eyes,  and  clear,  transparent  face  ; 
I  bought  her  gems  of  sparkling  hue  and  presents  rare  and  fine, 
And  dreamed  of  her  and  future  bliss,  nor  thought  of  No.  9. 

My  heart  is  broke,  etc, 

At  length  the  wished- for  time  was  fixed  to  join  our  fates  for  life. 
When  Sarah  Glass  should  ease  my  pains  and  be  my  darling  wife ; 
I  danced  and  sang  all  day  with  joy,  such  bliss  I  can't  define, 
Nor  envied  once  the  fortunes  of  the  chap  in  No.  9. 

My  heart  is  broke,  etc. 

Alas  !  upon  the  very  day  that  we  were  to  be  wed, 

My  hopes  were  shattered — Sarah  Glass  cleared  out,  vamoosed 

and  fled  ; 
Her  vows  as  brittle  as  her  name,  she  broke  with  full  design, 
She  sloped — run  off— got — went — with  the  chap  in  No.  9. 

My  heart  is  broke,  etc. 

And  now  the  dark  and  dismal  hours  in  loneliness  I  pass, 
Like  some  deserted  picture-frame,  forsaken  by  my  glass  ; 
Life's  bitter  goblet  thus  I  drain  and  not  a  hope  is  mine, 
For  they  were  smashed  to  pieces  by  the  chap  in  No.  9. 

My  heart  is  broke,  etc. 


56 


ALL     THE     WORLD     AROUND. 

IE1SH    NATIONAL    SOXG. 

Wards  by  T.J).  Sullivan.  Jtfusic  by  Sir  R.  P.  Stewart. 


£ 


jZ<Z 


Where    is  love  for 


Ire  -  land,     Firm  and  fond  and 


m 


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true  ?     Love    that  does  uot  wav  -  er,       Love    that  fal-ters 


=^± 


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V 


nev  -   er,      Love    that  glows  for   -   ev   -    er,         As     true 


=HP 


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TTf 


3 


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EE 


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love  should  do. 

4 fc 


Here      a  -  mong   her         chii  -  dren, 


-\ »— # 


1— r 


Here     on      ] 

-   rish     ground,  And  near     and   far,    'neath 
Chorus. 

i 1 # 1 N-, — I , 1 j--, . . 

-  d — r    %  •  m  -&,-»  \  «h^-- M — M 

R1-"*^ 

-i — k — -  0  2  -3  --M  -J    «  J    J— J 

1 • 1 ^          «      1   ^_ 1 f_  z-0—0 # — J 

sun  and  star,  All   the    world  a-round. 

1—4- — .    ,   ,  .  .    M— 4-r 


All   the 


•Id 


:feSzi 


-Jt=3t=j£ 


V      I 


round,  my  boys,    All     the  world  a  -  round  ;     Bj      land    and 


— 1 — h 

r     1 1 M-r* L_^     •-       rs  ,  -1           ^ 

—3 — J — J—* — ? — * — i J — gj  •  y    ' 

H-J- 

bi— *=faH-i— 1 — r  £-£±*l-=h 

sea,  wher  -  e'er  they     be,      All    the   world     a-round. 
(1) 


57 

ALL    THE     WORLD     AROUND.— [Concluded.] 

Where  are  prayers  for  Ireland, 

Breathed  soft  and  low — 
Earnest  prayers  and  tender, 
Asking  God  to  send  her 
Peace  and  joy  and  splendor, 

Ending  all  her  woe  ? 
They  are  heard  wherever 

Ireland's  sons  are  found, 
From  snow-clad  lands  to  tropic  sands, 

All  the  world  around. 

Cho. — All  the  world  around,  my  boys, 
All  the  world  around  ; 
To  heaven  they  rise,  through  all  the  skies, 
All  the  world  around. 

Where  is  aid  for  Ireland, 

If  the  need  should  be  ? 
If  a  foe  oppress  her, 
If  a  wrong  distress  her, 
Men  who  would  redress  her, 

Where  shall  Irelarid  see  ? 
Here,  in  crowds  uncounted, 

Here  such  men  are  found, 
And  friends  as  true,  not  faint  or  few, 

All  the  world  around. 

Cho. — All  the  world  around,  my  boys, 
All  the  world  around  ; 
Fond  hearts  and  bold,  she  may  behold, 
All  the  world  around. 

Yes,  beloved  Ireland, 

All  so  dear  thou  art, 
Where  young  men,  or  hoary, 
Tell  of  Brian's  glory, 
Where  O'Neill's  sad  story 

Thrills  through  many  a  heart ; 
Where  Emmet's  speech  is  spoken, 

Where  Moore's  sweet  songs  resound, 
Where  fond  acclaim  greets  Grattan's  name, 

All  the  world  around. 

Cho. — All  the  world  around,  my  boys, 
All  the  world  around ; 
There's  help  and  cheer  for  Ireland  dear. 
All  the  world  around. 

(2) 


58 


CAP1-.  KELLY'S  MEDLEY. 

Hark  !  I  hear  an  angel  sing, 

In  the  cottage  by  the  sea ; 
Give  me  back  ray  wedding-ring, 

Sally  is  the  girl  for  me. 

Put  me  in  my  little  bed, 

Where  the  foaming  billows  roll ; 
I  have  not  got  nary  red ; 

Johnny,  come  fill  up  the  bowl. 

>• 
Let  me  like  a  soldier  fall, 

When  the  bloom  is  on  the  ryo  ; 

Waiter,  bring  me  one  fish-ball, 

How  is  that,  old  boy,  for  high  1 

Susey  stole  my  heart  from  me, 
And  she  put  it  up  the  spout; 

Johnny's  on  another  spree, 

That  old  tiling  is  about  played  out. 

Mary  had  a  little  sheep, 
!      Great  on  eating  mutton-pies  ; 
Mother,  I  came  home  to  sleep, 
Wake  me  up,  when  Kirby  dies. 


69 
THE  COT  IN  THE  CORNER. 

Song  by  \Vni  F.  Sinclair  Lawlok,  in  tho  laughable  sketch  of  Barney 

and  the  Ghost,  as  performed  by  Chas.  Mac  Evoy'b  original 

Hibeniicou  Troupe. 

Och  hone,  wirraslrew,  how  hard  is  our  lot, 

The  landlord  has  turned  us  out  of  our  cot, 

To  us  in  this  world  'twas  tho  happiest  spot, 

On  the  hill-side  beyant  in  the  corner  ; 

The  roof  was  thatched  over  with  bright  yellow  straw, 

And  the  walls  were  as  white  as  the  snowflake  agra, 

Oh  it  was  a  fine  picture  a  painter  might  draw, 

From  the  boreen  beyant  in  the  corner. 

It  was  pnrty  without,  it  was  tidy  within, 

On  the  shelves,  shone  like  silver,  our  plate  made  of  tin 

Which  cast  some  reflections  when  sunlight  stole  in, 

On  the  dog  and  the  cat  in  the  corner; 

Of  bacon,  galore,  we  had  many  a  flitch  in 

The  wide  mouthed  chimney,  that  yawned  in  the  kitchen, 

Oh  'twould  make  your  mouth  water,  and  eager  to  pitch  in 

To  the  names  that  hung  high  in  the  corner. 

And  there  by  the  fire  my  mother  would  knit, 
And  close  to  her  side  my  ould  father  would  sit. 
What  stories  he'd  tell  when  his  dudeen  was  lit, 
While  he  smoked  away  in  the  corner; 
When  supper  was  over  the  neighbors  dropped  in, 
And  by  the  turf  fire  each  roasted  his  shin, 
While  the  boys  and  the  girls  ne'er  thought  it  a  ski 
For  to  hug  and  to  kiss  in  the  corner. 

When  Jimmy  the  piper  walked  in  on  the  floor, 

The  young  people  all  made  a  rush  for  the  door, 

Dragging  Jimmy  along  to  the  barn,  and  sure 

They  placed  him  high  up  in  the  corner; 

Then  at  it  they  went  dear  with  hearts  light  and  gayB 

And  danced  the  night  hours  into  the  young  day, 

'Till  Jimmy  got  drunk  an'  no  longer  could  play, 

For  he  lay  pipes  and  all  in  the  corner.  """    ' 


GO 


THE   BOLD   IRISH   SOLDIER. 

Air  :  -"  Girl  I  Left  Behind  Me." 

A  raw  recruit,  och  shure  is  me. 

I  enlisted  in  Phildelaphy, 
Field  Marshal  soon  I  came  to  be, 

Tip  top  of  the  Union  army, 
Oh,  what  pleasure  an'  oh  what  joys, 

'Twill  Le  to  gain  promotion. 
I've  a  taste  for  fighting'  anyhow,  boys, 

An'  a  better  one  for  the  lotion. 


Arrah  \  an'  ain't  I,  sure,  fond  of  the  lotion.  Look  at  the  bloom 
on  the  top  of  my  nose.  Ain't  it  beautiful.  But  the  worst  of  it 
is  it  is  always  runnin'  an'  the  divil  a  bit  can  I  stop  it,  and  that's 
not  military,  is  it  lads  ?  It  wants  a  rum  puncheon  (punching).  I 
should  think  that  would  do  it.  But  enough.  I'll  leave  my  nose 
alone  an'  go  on  wid  my  tale.  Well,  afther  I  took  the  bounty,  I 
enlisted  and  got  dhrunk  to  the  tune  of — 

CHORUS. 

With  spirits  gay  I'll  march  away, 

All  dangor  to  be  scorning ; 
I  could  fight  all  night  till  the  break  of  day, 

An'  come  home  quite  fresh  in  the  morning. 

Now  I  an'  another  an'  a  good  many  more. 

Had  to  sirip  an'  show  our  figure, 
An'  be  well  examined  by  Dr.  O'Moore, 

Afore  we  could  pull  a  trigger. 
The  Docther  patted  us  on  our  backs, 

Say  he,  "  None  can  be  prouder, 
Tez  can  give  an'  take  some  thunderin  whacks,, 

An'  yer  mttlin  stuff  for  powder. 
1 


*7/z>y^-y  -^ 


■OUtrt, 


SfrWfr? 


4,Fd  tg*  OUr^l^ut 


CETTHEBEST-.T   ceTTHEBEst 


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